


Heidonism

by Plastikpokal



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aaron Hotchner Needs a Hug, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Coming Out, Dream Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Sexual Assault, Slow Burn, Stabbing, Trauma, wordy af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plastikpokal/pseuds/Plastikpokal
Summary: - Trigger warning!!! Mentions past sexual assault and drug abuse/addiction! Please do not read if either of those are triggering to you! -Set in season 5, re-imagines the events of epsiodes 17 (Solitary Man) to 21 (Exit Wounds)"Just now he could feel it again in his heart. His brain was flooding his body with dopamine like he was in love. He could feel his fingertips burning like he was longing to touch the skin of somebody he wanted, without knowing who it was."Agent Aaron Hotchner wakes from an intense dream and it triggers a series of surprising realizations. (Spoiler alert: he's crushing really hard on a certain Dr. Spencer Reid!)
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 39
Kudos: 73





	1. Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of this fic are angsty babey! Please remember to be kind to your mind and feel free to wash this down with some good ol' fluff afterwards. Please also consider trigger warnings.  
> You ever wake from a dream and feel like you are in love? This fic is about that feeling.  
> Kissies to you. Enjoy!

When Special Agent Aaron Hotchner opened his eyes that morning, he felt anything but well-rested. Even though he had just woken up after a rare eight hours of sleep, his heart was pumping blood like he had been chasing after somebody. There was also a mixture of intense emotion lingering in his chest. The kind of bliss he had only felt once before, when he had realized early into his relationship with Haley that he had fallen in love with her and the bewilderment of being loved by her in return, while certain that he did not deserve her and that one day she would wake up and realize it too and inevitably leave him. Mind-hazing passion they had had for each other in the early years. Speechlessness at the sight of her in his bed. Finally, unbearable longing when finding it empty. Without being able to control himself just yet, tears welled up in his eyes. It was a dream, he reminded himself, breathing heavily out and in. 

His t-shirt was soaked in sweat. His head was pounding. As was the pulsing erection in his boxers. Aaron Hotchner pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to come to his senses. "Just a dream" he said, this time out loud. 

This might have been the first time in months that he had not dreamed of the reaper. As he was focusing more on his breathing, some of the details from the dream came back to him. He had met someone in his office and though he could not remember their face, he could remember the way their presence had made him feel. Just now he could feel it again in his heart. His brain was flooding his body with dopamine like he was in love. He could feel his fingertips burning like he was longing to touch the skin of somebody he wanted, without knowing who it was. Had it been Haley? For a moment he gave in to the sensations the dream had given him. He had not been with anybody in such a long time. Even prior to the incident with George Foyet- He had separated from Haley months before and afterwards he had not felt like finding somebody new, not even for sex. Then, after his attack and Haley’s murder, even considering getting involved romantically with somebody had felt nothing but wrong to him. 

Hotch had even seriously considered not ever pursuing a romantic relationship ever again. He would never tell anybody and he could hardly admit it to himself, but he was certain that being touched would most likely trigger him and the trauma caused by Foyet.

The reaper had not raped him, at least not in the classical sense. But he had teased Hotch about it, remarking the similarities of the crimes, taking his shirt off and sitting on Hotch’s lap to stab him ever so slowly. It was the last time he had touched another person’s skin and for all it was worth, today he could hardly touch his own. The reaper had marked him in every way, just as he had intended. 

Hotch let out a deep breath and swung his legs over the bed frame. He would take a cold shower, take Jack to school and by the time he would dive into a new case with his team, he would surely have forgotten all about his dream.

When Hotch arrived at their headquarters, he went straight to his office. Unfortunately, last night’s dream had shaken him more than he liked to admit. He was unsure whether to be glad that he was still able to feel a considerable amount of sexual desire, given the gravity of his assault. After all, Hotch had expected not to feel this sensation again, at least for a much longer time. Yet today he felt as overwhelmed by hormones as he had as a teenager.

Hotch realized that he had been staring at an open file on his desk without processing anything at all, when JJ came knocking at his door. 

“Good Morning, boss.” she said with a smile. “I see you are already getting familiar with the new case?”

“Just started to have a look at it. Is the team all here?”

“Yes."

"Alright then, conference room in ten.”

She left and he sighed, trying to shake his emotions. "Focus", he whispered to himself.

The file told him that the unsub they were dealing with was kidnapping and killing young women in their twenties and disposing of them along different highways, which was how JJ had first found out about him. There was seemingly no connection between the victims, except the strange DNA found on their bodies, which showed no match in any one of their databases.

Hotch grabbed his file and made his way over to their meeting room, where JJ, Dave and Morgan were already sharing ideas for a possible motive.

He greeted them and took a seat, eyes focused on the board before him, where JJ had hung up photos of all known victims as well as their names and general information. He always preached to his team about the importance of victimology. 

Hotch had just managed to finally focus on the case, when Prentiss and Reid came in, coffee in hand and exchanging jokes. It was at that moment when it finally hit Hotch and the memories of his dream were coming back to him all at once. It had been Reid in his office, his skin he had touched, his neck he had kissed. As quickly as a rush of blood to the head, Hotch gathered himself and directed his eyes back at the board. In a sudden turn of events, he felt even more conflicted about his desire than he had thought to be possible. He tried to calm himself down silently, though he was sure that his ears were burning. Being subtle was quite the challenge in a room full of highly trained profilers. Nobody had seemed to have caught his reaction though. Silently, Hotch screamed at himself. Why the hell had he had a sex dream about Spencer Reid? Sure, the young genius was remarkably handsome, pretty even, as Morgan phrased it. But to Hotch himself, Dr. Spencer Reid had been a protégé, a reliable colleague and a good friend. Reid had been only twenty-three when Hotch had met him, not to mention that Hotch had been happily married and expecting a child with the woman he loved. 

Could it be that his perception of and his relationship to Reid had changed that dramatically in the last four years or so, without him even noticing? 

Careful as to not draw any attention from his colleagues, Hotch dared to have one more look at the young genius. In the last four years, his colleague had had quite the journey of his own. Getting kidnapped and drugged, overcoming the addiction that ensued and repeatedly endangering his own life to save others. It had changed Reid from the innocent boy he once was, to a resolute man. He was still almost twenty years his junior and decidedly too good for the world. Hotch felt dirty all of a sudden, just as he had when he woke up in the hospital after his attack. 

“Why did it take so long to get invited?”, Dave broke his train of thought.

With no expression whatsoever, Hotch answered. “We haven’t been invited, we found this on the HSK database.” 

“A lot of police departments won’t want this problem.” said Morgan. It would not be the first time the team was not welcome to an investigation. However, Hotch was certain that JJ had been correct in the assumption that they could be of great value in this case.

“The geographic profile shows that only one of them has it, they just don’t know it yet.” Reid stood up from his seat and pointed at the map in front of them. He was bending over ever so slightly and Hotch shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Hotch could feel Dave’s eyes on him, but he ignored it as best as he could.

“How do you know that?” Said Morgan.

“Because he has a comfort zone. Based on the direction he was heading when he dumped the bodies, all five cases point to our unsub heading to Edgewood, New Mexico.” Reid turned around, his eyes meeting Hotch’s. 

“And that’s where we’re headed.” Hotch said without breaking his gaze. Reid had obviously checked if his geographical analysis had impressed his boss. Hotch could not help but wonder how often Reid did this without him noticing. He realized reluctantly that he found it endearing. Spencer was, at least in some way, looking up to Hotch, which made his fantasy of last night even more morally reprehensible. Abuse of power was most repulsive to Hotch and nothing he would ever consider appealing. But was that what this was? After all, it had been a dream, nothing more. Hotch could not control the images his brain was producing in a dream state. 

Back in his office Hotch was gathering his belongings and go-bag, when Dave knocked on the open door. 

"Come in, Dave." said Hotch. He had a nauseating feeling what this was about. 

"How are you doing, Aaron?"

Hotch could not help but notice that it was not Dave, his friend who asked, but David Rossi, the profiler. Hotch looked up from his bag and at Rossi. He quickly assessed the look of concern on his colleague's face before answering. 

"I'm fine, Dave. How are you?" 

Rossi huffed at Hotch’s try to lie to his face. 

"The victims were not sexually assaulted." Dave said and Hotch realized what he was trying to say. Rossi had interpreted Hotch’s behavior to be a symptom of his PTSD. 

Dave must have been the only person to admit what sort of abuse Hotch had suffered at the hands of the reaper. More so at least than Hotch himself. 

"I know, Dave. I'm fine really. Just haven't slept all that well." 

Rossi studied Hotch’s face for a moment before he accepted that Hotch was probably not fine, but did not want to talk about it to him right now. 

"Well, I will get you an espresso before the plane." Dave announced and left. 

Hotch sighed again. It was hardly even nine. This was going to be a long day of watching his own behavior. 

On the plane, the team had been discussing all the known details of the case before general silence had settled. 

Hotch was sitting with Dave, espresso and file before him on the table. 

JJ and Morgan were sitting in the parallel seats, while Reid and Prentiss sat leisurely on the couch, talking about something Hotch could not hear. 

They seemed to be really enjoying their conversation, giggling and laughing away, Prentiss wiggling her eyebrows at Reid and him playfully hitting her arm. 

Without understanding the exact words that were exchanged, Hotch could tell that Prentiss was teasing their young colleague and that the conversation was most likely in relation to a romantic encounter Reid might have had. As he was silently observing, Hotch suddenly realized that he had been smiling along unconsciously. He swiftly caught himself and pretended to have another look at the file. As his eyes were staring at the words without his brain processing them, he found his mind wandering off. Had Prentiss and Reid always been this close? Were they disclosing intimate personal information to each other? It was no problem to do so, in fact, Hotch was glad his team was as close as it was. He sometimes became painfully aware of the invisible wall that separated himself from his subordinates. Hotch was their boss. They knew they could trust him and be open with him, but of course none of them would think of coming to him first with personal issues. It was a non-verbal agreement of the work space and it had worked perfectly fine in the years prior. Today however, it seemed to isolate Hotch from his team. Except for Jack, he had no family left. The one thing that came close to having a family was his team. Many times he had wanted to break the glass between them and reach out, but in the end he never did. He did not want to seem invasive or worse- lonely. 

In retrospect, he should have probably broken the glass a couple of times before. He almost had, when Reid had been abducted by Hankel and was dealing with the aftermath. Then again when he had realized that Reid had become addicted. Reid had been forced to go through all of it alone, like Hotch was today. 

Reid had always been alone, as far as Hotch knew, and though he had claimed before to like it that way, Hotch was not so sure. Everybody needs somebody from time to time. In those minutes, when the team had found the graveyard, after Reid had so brilliantly led them there, Reid had clung to Hotch like he was a lifeboat keeping him afloat. Hotch had been shocked at first, by the display of helplessness and even affection, but then he had given in to it. He had hugged Reid right back, because there he had been, alive despite all odds. Hotch could still feel the slender arms around his shoulders and nape, the warm rigged breath at his neck. The terror in both their faces. Reid’s words “I knew you’d understand.” ringing in his ears for days afterwards. 

When he had woken up in the hospital after Foyer's attack, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole, everybody had come to see him, except for Reid. When Dave had finally explained to him that the genius had been shot in the leg, Hotch had been furious but defeated at the same time. 

How dare they not tell him what had happened? How dare the universe lay another finger on this poor boy who had been through so much? 

Hotch swallowed. The pilot announced their soon arrival and pulled Hotch back into reality. Dave cleared his throat politely and Hotch realized that he had been staring at Reid for the last ten minutes or so. He washed down his embarrassment with the now cold espresso and let Dave start a conversation about yacht prices. 

The look in his older colleague's eyes was almost accusing and Hotch endured it. 

  
  


In Edgewood, Reid and Rossi went to the dump site while Hotch and JJ talked to Sheriff Sanders.

Discussions about the recent investigations turned out to be a testimony for just how chaotic police work had been until now. Until correlations to victims across state lines had been found, the departments had not recognized the threat for how serious it really was. Now that the BAU had pulled up and the term serial killings had been dropped, neither department wanted to claim responsibility. One of the more evident downsides of federalism. Hotch explained their approach to the sheriff once more, with as much patience as he could gather. 

“Law enforcement, no matter how small the town, reports the murders and we use the database to try to connect them. Whoever is killing these women isn’t slowing down. And he’s about to dump another body on your doorstep.”

JJ, Hotch and Sheriff Sanders had spent the entire afternoon at the department, looking at the evidence and discussing details. In the evening however, the only conclusion they had come to was that the unsub was most likely a trucker. 

It was not a lot to go from and as much as Hotch hated to admit it, their best chance at this point was to wait for another victim to be dumped. It was getting late and Hotch was eager to finally get some sleep. They were all booked at a hotel in town, near the highway. 

The hotel featured a large parking lot for passing travelers, as well as a bar nearby. Hotch was already fantasizing about sinking into the soft pillows of a freshly made bed, when Prentiss suggested to get a drink at the bar. Hotch wanted to say no at first, but then he remembered his goal to tear down the glass wall. Emily's invite to go for drinks with the team was a rare opportunity to put his plans into action. Besides, he had yet to get over his intense urge to observe Reid. He wanted to find out if there were even more changes about the boy wonder and his own perception of him that he had missed. So he agreed to go with them and after having freshed up in his hotel room, Hotch left with a last wistful look at his untouched bed. 

The bar was just as grimey as he had suspected. It did not bother him at all though. It was very large as well and surprisingly crowded. As he looked around the room, Hotch tried to recall the last time he had actually been to a bar for fun. He could not remember. 

"Hotch!" Prentiss waved at him and he went to stand with her, Reid, Morgan and JJ. 

Dave, sitting down at the bar, wordlessly handed him a whisky on the rocks and  clinked the glass with his own. Prentiss and JJ were drinking wine, Morgan was holding a beer in a bottle and Reid was fumbling with the straw of a virgin cocktail that was almost fluorescent in the dim light. He seemed restless, throwing glances over his shoulder every couple of seconds, then scanning the patrons again. 

Prentiss was watching Reid and grinning into her wine glass. 

"Surprisingly full in here." said Morgan, whose eyes were also wandering over the room, if more relaxed than Reid. "What are the odds our unsub is here tonight? Actually-" 

Morgan raised his free hand to stop Reid from answering. "Nevermind." 

Reid closed his open mouth again, swallowing what was without a doubt the literal and correct answer to Morgan's question. 

"Are you okay, pretty boy?" asked Morgan, when Reid threw another glance at the door. Even in the warm orange light of the bar, Hotch could tell that Reid was blushing. The young doctor gave Morgan one of his signature non-smiles and did not answer. 

Pretty boy, Hotch repeated in his mind. Morgan's nickname for Reid, although originally an insult, was nothing but suitable for Reid. He really was pretty, more so than many women at this bar. It was not just his hair, which he had been wearing in a messy bob for some time now, or his slender body. Reid undeniably had feminine features. Big brown doe eyes with long lashes, a petite nose and soft, full lips. Or at least Hotch imagined them to be soft. Reid took a sip from his cocktail absentmindedly, and Hotch watched as those pretty lips closed around the yellow plastic straw. Reid sucked, his cheeks hollowing, then swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing up and down his long neck. Hotch swallowed too, suddenly very aware of the tight collar and knot of his tie around his own throat. 

He forced himself to look at the amber drink in his own hand. Hotch had never really started to enjoy the taste of whisky, like he felt he was supposed to. He preferred wine or beer. In this moment however, he found himself wondering what the drink in Reid's hand tasted like. Would he be able to taste it on Reid's tongue if he kissed him? Noticing that he was again staring at his subordinate, Hotch steered his unwilling eyes away from him, only to find that Dave was looking at him again. 

He felt the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck and ears. Just how obvious had his eternal struggle become? 

Prentiss and JJ seemed to not have noticed, as they were talking to each other and Morgan was too busy checking out the female clientele. 

Reid was still looking for whoever it might be and was blissfully unaware that his boss was undressing him with his eyes. 

David Rossi, however, was not. 

He looked Hotch sternly in the eyes. 

"Aaron." he said in a low voice. "The last time I looked at somebody that way, I got married for the third time." 

In Dave's voice layed almost the perfect balance of annoyance and bewildered amusement. "You might want to get yourself under control in order to remain professional." 

Hotch's look at Dave was no less stern. 

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, David." He lied, making it unmistakable that the topic was off the table. 

"Perfect. No problem then." said Rossi. 

But it was a problem. No sooner had Hotch and Rossi continued their conversation about yachts, when the reason for Reid's restlessness was finally revealed. The door to the bar had opened once again and a new wave of people had swept in from outside, including a man with shoulder-long mahogany hair and beard, wearing a black leather jacket and looking indisputably cool. He must have been in his late twenties to early thirties and by the reaction on his and Reid's faces, they obviously knew each other. 

"Spencer." said the man, came over and pulled Reid into a short but genuine hug. 

"Hi, Ethan." Reid answered, then turned around to introduce his friend to the team. It took no profiler to realize the nature of their relationship. Whether it was a recent thing or not, there was obvious romantic tension between the two. 

"Team, this is Ethan, we had FBI training together." 

Ethan raised his hand to greet them. "Hi, how are you?"

Reid introduced them to him one by one and they exchanged their courtesies, before Reid excused himself and went to sit down with Ethan somewhere else. 

"He doesn't look like FBI to me." Morgan deducted. 

"That's because he isn't." said Prentiss. "They trained together but Ethan quit. He's a jazz musician now, currently touring and came by Edgewood just to say hi." She had the same expression as she did on the plane and finally Hotch knew what she had been teasing Reid about. She had known that Reid would meet Ethan here and she seemed to also know a lot more that Hotch would never dare to press her for. Luckily he did not have to, because JJ and Morgan were just as curious. 

"I don't know if I should be offended that he told you but not me?" Morgan said only half-jokingly. 

"No need, I just accidentally saw their texts back in Quantico, so naturally I had to inquire." 

"Accidentally, huh?" JJ joked. "Must have been some interesting texts." 

Derek huffed in acknowledgment. "Damn, pretty boy." he said, sounding proud, as they were all looking over to where Reid and Ethan had found a place at a table. Reid seemed nervous but smitten at the same time interacting with Ethan. 

"A jazz musician, really?" JJ questioned and Prentiss nodded wisely. 

"Yes, he told me they have met up before, in New Orleans when you were investigating the murder of Will's Dad?" 

"Oh! " JJ raised her brows. "A fateful trip it was." 

"I figure we should stop staring and let Reid enjoy his company." said Rossi wisely and after a while, the team recollected themselves and left Reid to his own devices. He seemed perfectly happy, if a little nervous. 

Hotch however was anything but collected. Not only had Dr. Spencer Reid a romantic connection to this very male man, this Ethan guy looked anything but trustworthy to Hotch. Reid was a recovering addict at a bar. Hotch trusted his abilities as Dr. Reid and he appreciated the person Spencer without a doubt, but he also knew addicts. He was not sure if a man who had quit the FBI to become a bearded jazz musician was the type of person he would trust to honor Reid's needs and restrictions. 

As if Dave had read Hotch’s mind, and Hotch figured he might have in a way, the older agent quietly said: "He'll be fine, Aaron. He's a grown man, don't forget that." 

Hotch was not relieved but he let it go. 

He stayed for a few minutes more, nipping on his whisky and shooting glances over at where Reid was sitting, letting Dave’s words pour over him.

When the guy Ethan softly put a hand on Reid's thigh and Reid blushed even more than before, but smiled at Ethan, Hotch finally excused himself and left. 

The cool air outside made him realize just how tired he was and that the whisky had had a more intense effect on him than it usually would have. 

Hotch made his way to his hotel room, where he undressed and sank into the cold, sturdy blanket that smelled like cheap detergent. There was nothing on his mind but Spencer Reid. Like a supercut, images flashed before his mind's eye. Spencer's doe eyes throwing glances at him wherever Hotch went, his long slender body sitting in a large seat on their jet, his long fingers tucking a strand of his hair behind his ears. The change in his body language when he talked about something he was passionate about and the way he retreated when he was shut down. A flower, Hotch thought. 

His full lips around the straw. Doe eyes. Hotch groaned into his pillow. What was happening to him? He was losing control over his mind and did not like it. He was hard again like this morning, but now he had all the context. For a second, he allowed himself to revisit the dream. He was sitting at his desk, when Spencer came in, a shy look on his beautiful face.

Hotch got up from his seat and walked toward him and they embraced tenderly, Spencer’s warm chest against his own. He tried to imagine kissing those lips, running his fingers through Spencer’s hair and gently pulling, so he would have access to his neck. Hotch groaned into the quiet darkness of his hotel room, the sound of passing trucks in the distance. Was Ethan kissing Spencer the way Hotch wanted to kiss him? Hotch’s hand made its way toward his boxers and he wished it were Spencer’s. He threw the blanket off of himself, it was weighing him down. Cold air hit his skin but it did nothing to cool Hotch down. His hand stroked his erection through the fabric of his underwear and it was embarrassingly intense. Before his closed eyes, Hotch could see Spencer in his office, face flushed but it was Ethan who was kissing his neck, touching him, running his hands along Spencer’s thigh and eliciting small whimpers of pleasure from that beautiful mouth.

Hotch slipped his hand into his boxers and felt that he was already leaking precum. With his eyes tightly shut, he saw Spencer’s eyes and imagined that it was his dick he was stroking and not his own. His movements were getting frantic now as he tried to imagine what Spencer sounded like when he was coming undone under his hand. He would look stunning, Hotch was sure, clinging to Aaron as he had before, but for all the good reasons.

Hotch came alone in his hotel room, shook by his orgasm for more reasons than one. After his traumatic experience, Hotch had not been sure when he would be able to feel like this again. Free, blissful, a little guilty. 

He went to the bathroom to clean himself up and after giving himself a long hard look in the mirror, he went back to bed and sank into a much needed slumber.

He had slept for a maximum of four hours, when the ringtone of his work phone violently woke him. His fingers roamed the nightstand in the dark before he managed to grab it. It was Sheriff Sanders.

“Hotchner?” Hotch answered, his voice coarse. 

“Sorry to wake you, Sir.” The sheriff sounded worried. “We have a kidnapping at a rest stop nearby. The victim’s daughter might be a witness. I figured it might be our guy.”

“It’s good you called me.” Hotch said, though he’d much rather be sleeping. “Are you there right now?”

“I am, Sir.”

“Send me the address, Sheriff. I will give agents Morgan and Prentiss a call, they will be joining you. Agent Jareau, Rossi, Dr. Reid and I will come to the station.”

He flipped the phone shut and sighed into the darkness. Hotch rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. He had slept only for a short while, but he had not had any nightmares at all. 

First he called Prentiss and told her to wake up JJ, who she was sharing a room with. Then he dialed Morgan’s number. 

“Hotch?”, Morgan’s voice sounded just as tired as his.

“We have a kidnapping with a possible witness. I will send you the address. Please go with Prentiss and tell Reid to meet the rest of us at the station.”

“Uhm…” said a sleepy Morgan on the other line.

“What is it, Morgan?” Hotch asked.

“It’s nothing-” Morgan mumbled. “Reid’s not here. But I will get a hold of him.”

“Thank you, Morgan.” Hotch said promptly and hung up.

His heart was racing all of a sudden. Reid’s not here, rang Morgan’s words in his ears. 

No need to worry, he tried to tell himself. Spencer had probably taken off with Ethan or had stayed at the bar. He took a deep breath and hauled himself out of bed. 

He met JJ and Rossi at the parking lot in front of their SUVs. 

“Ready to go?” he asked, earning confused looks by his colleagues.

“Isn’t Spencer coming with us?” JJ asked.

“Reid will join us later.” 

When the others did not move he added “Morgan is trying to get a hold of him. We’ll share a car.”

JJ and Rossi looked slightly taken aback but neither one commented and got in the car.

Riding down to the police station in the dark, Hotch could not help but worry ever so slightly about Spencer.

As soon as they arrived at the station, Hotch called Morgan again.

“What do you have?”

Via speaker phone, the agent filled them in on the details.

Morgan and Prentiss had arrived at the scene and Morgan had cleverly ordered the policemen to look for another body, which had been found in the woods nearby.

“The woman he kidnapped is much older than all the other victims. She has a daughter, who Prentiss is talking to at the moment.”

“Thank you Morgan. Did you manage to get a hold of Reid?”

“He just texted me back, he’s on his way to you now.”

Hotch hung up and tried not to give away the sheer volume of his relief. Spencer was fine. 

An officer brought them coffee and Hotch downed his in three big gulps. It need not be said out loud for the entire team to know that time spans between the abductions were decreasing at an alarming rate. The unsub had carelessly left a witness, changing his behavior dramatically.

They had only begun to rethink their profile, when a disheveled Reid stumbled in through the door.

Reid smiled his signature non-smile and waved his hand awkwardly to say hello. Hotch intentionally ignored this all together. 

Nobody addressed Reid, but JJ said it all with her eyes. “Where were you?” they said accusingly. “We were worried.”

Reid shot her a single glance that seemed to say “This is not the time nor place.” before the unbearable silence in the office was interrupted by Garcia, who called to tell them she was finding connections between the victims.

“We need to get photos of the victims, Garcia.” Hotch said, glad that the investigation seemed to finally pick up speed. “Put them on the board. We figure out why he is choosing these women, we find him.” Victimology was always his first priority.

For a second he caught Reid’s eye. His subordinate was watching him, trying to meet his gaze. Hotch was certain that Reid was embarrassed by the whole situation and was looking for a sign from Hotch that he messed up but that it was fine, as he had so often done before. This time however, Hotch could not give that to him. His gaze was merciless. As he looked back into Reid’s eyes, a flash of an image he had seen in his dream appeared before him, but he shook it off.

As it turned out, there were a lot more victims than they had suspected, mostly sex workers and truckers. Now the unsub had moved from victims that the world quickly forgot about, to a victim that would most likely cause a lot of publicity. Which in return meant that the unsub probably had a reason to take this risk.

The sun rose and they were still there, doing more background checks on truckers they had looked at before. Morgan and Rossi left to investigate at a trucker hotel. 

Morgan manages to figure out that the unsub was most likely a trucker who worked independently. 

“Time frames are getting shorter.” Reid repeated once more, not a trace of tiredness in his voice. He was wide-awake and focused and Hotch had a hard time looking away, so he did not. 

“He takes them home, where he feels safe.” Hotch added. “There is no rape involved. So is it companionship he’s after?” 

None of the other team members weighed in, so it was Reid who answered him again, looking right at him the entire time he spoke. There was something else in his eyes, something that Hotch could not quite decipher.

“You know there might be even a chivalrous aspect to this.” Reid said like it was obvious. “Truckers have romanticized images of themselves and in fact all lifestyles involving the open road do.” There was the tiniest moment of silence which allowed the agents to ask themselves if their lifestyle included the open road. Hotch most definitely related to what Reid said. 

“The Hell’s Angels refer to their women as their “old ladies” but in reality there is no one that they’d rather protect…” Spencer’s eyes were drilling holes into Hotch’s very soul. “... _ or die for.  _ Their treatment of women would not be out of place at King Arthur’s court.”

Even when he had finished, Reid’s eyes were lingering on Hotch’s and Hotch found himself compelled to look back, so much so that he almost missed what Morgan said. Reid was still looking for that reassurance, Hotch was sure, but he could not bring himself to soften his gaze. 

“And their feeling of isolation would amp up their fantasy.” Morgan said.

Hotch cringed at how much he could relate to this description and finally managed to avert his gaze. “So he’s looking for a wife.” He said. 

“He starts with easy targets and then moves on to women who could actually fill the role.”

“Sweet, outgoing, warm.” Rossi chimed in. “The bartender who takes extra care of you, the chatty hitchhiker...”

Picking up the narrative, Hotch continued, while feeling his skin burn where Reid kept throwing glances at him.

“During the course of the day, they fail the test.” Hotch said. “This infuriates him and then he strangles them and dumps them.”

“Okay, so why take Nancy Campbell?” asked JJ “She’s the opposite of all the other victims he’s taken.”

“It’s true, she’s older, already has a kid.” said Rossi.

“Maybe that’s why she’s still alive. What if he’s not looking for a companion.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Reid was still throwing glances at him and at this point, it was incredibly distracting. It took him all his willpower not to tell Reid to leave him be. “He's looking for a mother.”

The rest of the team was either completely oblivious to the nonverbal communication between Reid and their boss, or they were reverently ignoring it. 

“Maybe he has a kid of his own, that would explain why he keeps coming back to Edgewood.” Morgan continued.

“Explains why he takes Nancy Campbell, not the daughter.”

Looking down at the speakerphone in front of them, Hotch said “Garcia.”

“Sir.”

“Narrow down the list. Which truckers have been through divorces recently and or custody battles? How many of them are still open?”

“Eight pending.” Garcia said. “Not the most relationship-friendly job, trucking.” Hotch suppressed a sigh. Another point he could relate to.

Then they surprisingly get a call from Sheriff Sanders about another body found near the dump site. Hotch ordered Dave to go and have a look whether it was Nancy Campbell. 

“Prentiss, you talk to the daughter again.” Prentiss nodded and left.

“Reid, speak separately for a moment.” 

Hotch stood up from his seat, followed by a nervous Reid. Hotch was not even sure what he was going to say to him, but he found an empty office and motioned for Reid to get in.

In the office was an empty desk and chairs, but neither one of them sat down.

“Where were you when Morgan called you earlier?” Hotch asked as soon as Reid had closed the door behind him. 

Reid looked almost annoyed. He knew that Hotch knew where he had been and he was embarrassed to say it out loud.

“I was with Ethan.” Reid said quietly but looking Hotch in the eyes.

“Need I remind you that we are here to work on a case?” Hotch replied coldly. 

“No.” said Reid. 

“In the future, please be sure to report for duty as soon as a call from any team member comes in.” Hotch continued. “Remember, that we are not only to keep a professional look at our work, but that we are concerned for your safety.”

Reid looked surprised at first, then his expression changed to insult. 

“My safety?” he repeated. “I am an armed FBI agent, Hotch. I can take care of myself.”

“So can I.” Hotch replied. “That does not make us invincible now, does it?”

Reid did not reply immediately to that. He returned Hotch’s gaze, obviously looking for clues for all possible meanings to his bosses words.

“I’m sorry.” Reid said, “But...are you okay Hotch?”

Hotch felt caught and tried hard not to give it away. “Why would I not be?”

Reid blushed a little. “It’s just… you seem different. I thought maybe it had something to do with...the case? It might be triggering to you?”

Hotch’s face remained expressionless. “Why would it? The victims were neither stabbed nor sexually assaulted.”

Reid looked totally perplexed for some reason. His big brown eyes were scanning Hotch’s even more acutely than before. Something in Hotch’s abdomen twisted and suddenly Reid seemed way too physically close to his liking. Hotch took a step back from his colleague, like it was the most natural thing to do. In reality, his heart rate had picked up speed and his fingertips were cold with sweat. Hotch ignored it. He could not be so close to Reid right now without blowing his cover. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t report back right away, Hotch.” Reid said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

“No it won’t.” Hotch sounded icy, surprised himself by his tone. “Did you get any sleep at all tonight?” 

Reid blushed ever so slightly. “N-no.” he stammered.

“Go back to the hotel then. We can take it from here.”

“Are you grounding me?” Reid said wide-eyed. “Hotch, I-”

“No, I’m looking out for your safety. And for the safety of our team. We need you rested. Take one of the SUVs back to the hotel.”

With that, the conversation was over.

When Hotch returned to his team, Garcia had found a possible suspect.

Wade Hatchett, an independent trucker, lost his wife in a fire, leaving behind their daughter Jody. He had been deemed unfit for custody of Jody because of his work which kept him away for weeks at a time. Having no other family to help him out, Hatched had been charged with neglect of a minor and was currently living in his truck. Everything seemed to finally come together.

Rossi called to inform them that the body found belonged to Jody Hatchett’s foster mother.

The police under Sheriff Sanders as well as a SWAT team were called to the home of the foster mother. There they positioned themselves and waited for Jody, who was to come home from school any minute. Tense silence laid over the house as they waited. 

“Did Reid stay at the station?” Prentiss asked Hotch, who had been staring out the window, trying not to think about whether he had made a mistake by sending Reid back to the hotel all by himself. It had gotten a little more difficult for him to tell rational fears from paranoia.

“Reid is back at the hotel. He hasn’t slept.” Hotch put it simply. He did not have to justify his every move to his team, but he had a feeling that this was one of those decisions that would get questioned.

Prentiss looked a little surprised at Hotch’s statement but did not argue. “Okay.” was all she said but Hotch could tell that she was exchanging looks with JJ.

The next minutes went by in a haze. Jody arrived from school and with the help of Prentiss and JJ, they were able to get Jody to contact her father via a walkie-talkie that he had given her.

Then, Wade Hatchett pulled up in his truck but unfortunately noticed the armed policemen that were supposed to be hiding in the garden. Using Nancy Campbell as a shield, he made it impossible for the snipers to shoot him without simultaneously harming the woman. Jody then persuaded him to let Nancy Campbell go and before the team could stop him, Hatchett eventually shot himself. The gunshot sounded in their ears for minutes after Hatchett had pulled the trigger.

Prentiss was holding Jody, who was too little to completely understand the magnitude of what had happened.

Hotch felt paralyzed as he could do nothing but stare at Prentiss and Jody, waiting for the waves of shock that rolled over him to become smaller until he could eventually breathe again. He excused himself and went to the bathroom, where he locked the door and finally allowed himself to lose composure. A noise of desperation escaped Hotch as he buried his face in his hands. For the millionth time in months, the last moments of his late wife’s life played out before his mind’s eye. A shot through the phone. The certainty that his son had heard it too. The uncertainty whether Hotch would make it there in time to save him.

Wade Hatchett was on his mind. Hotch was not a serial killer but he most certainly sympathized with a widower losing his only child. If for some reason, Hotch were to lose Jack, he would surely lose his life as well. He allowed the overwhelming feeling to wash over him once more, until it subsided. He washed his tired face with some cold water, breathed heavily out and in and when he emerged from the bathroom again, he was not Aaron the widower, but Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.

The flight back to Virginia was quiet. The team was tired and disappointed by the case’s turnout. Hotch did not return to the bureau but went straight home, where his sister in law was watching Jack. He hugged his son extra tight that night and read him a half a chapter of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets until he went to sleep. Then finally, Hotch returned to his room, stripped off his clothes and sank into the pillows without putting on his pajamas. He grabbed the MP3-player on his bedside table and turned on the music to get lulled into sleep. When the inevitable tears welled up in his eyes, he let them fall and when sleep came, he sank deep.


	2. Nightmares on Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sup ladies and germs and enby babies
> 
> This chapter is a little less sexual but angsty and full of Heid nontheless.  
> Hotch is trying to shake his new infatuation but it's proving rather persistent.  
> Whatever should he do?

Hotch woke up the next morning, feeling a different kind of tired. He was not sleepy anymore, it was more like a soreness. He figured it was his brain recovering from the waves of deep emotions he had gone through in the last forty-eight hours. Lying still in his bed, he tried to remember if he had had any nightmares, but there was nothing. Neither good memories nor bad. Instead, he found his mind wandering to the day before. More specifically to his awkward conversation with Reid.  
To his dismay, he realized that this new and powerful infatuation with the doctor had not subsided like the other emotions had. Instead, he felt guilty for the way he had treated Reid. Like a child, he thought. Reid had even tried to ask him how he, Hotch, felt and he had shut him down immediately. So much for tearing down the glass wall, Hotch thought.  
There was no way around it, sooner or later they would have to resume that conversation. It would most likely be unbearably awkward, but it was necessary. Reid needed to know that Hotch had only had the best intentions and that his own attempt to get through to Hotch had not gone unnoticed.

There was still the question however, what his feelings really meant. Hotch did not know much about the psychology behind dreams. If the situation had been any different, he would have asked Reid.  
Instead, Hotch started his home computer.  
On Google he found mostly cryptic or spiritual websites for dream interpretation but nothing genuinely informative. The closest he got to empirical proof, was the mention of some study in an article about sex dreams. Serious or not, all of the websites he clicked on seemed to suggest the same thing: He cared deeply about Spencer, wanted to protect him or even dominate him. They also suggested that his subconscious most likely had already considered the scenario before he had been aware of it. And lastly, if the feelings he was experiencing were because of his dream only, they would eventually wear off and disappear completely.  
Hotch found himself conflicted yet again. While he knew these dream feelings were compromising him and making work life with Reid awkward to say the least, they had been the most intense positive emotions he had felt in months, maybe even years. What if, once they had subsided, he would go back to his old ways, living only to be a Dad to Jack and never experience anything new for himself only? It was a terrifying and miserable thought.  
But would these feelings subside at all?  
If they were really all solely stemming from his dream, would he not have been able to dismiss them at this point? Hotch had been weirded out by his dream, but not in a way these websites described.  
He had felt guilty at first, but then he had given in to his imagination. A simple thing, like Spencer throwing glances at him, had made his skin burn with excitement. Spencer drinking from his cocktail had been nearly obscene and later that night he had touched himself to the image that seemed to have burned itself into his mind. And he had been jealous. They would have to torture Hotch to get him to confess this out loud, but he had been jealous of Ethan. When that grimey guy in that grimey bar had slipped his hand up Reid's thigh, Hotch had wanted nothing more but to slap his hand away, scoop Reid right out of his seat and take him back to his hotel room.  
Even thinking about it now made his blood pump. Hotch went to take a shower, images flashing in his mind. Spencer's eyes finding his in a crowded room. Hotch walking over to him, saying something to Ethan in his supervisor voice, effectively shutting him down. Spencer thanking him for protecting him, stepping closer until Hotch could feel the slender body against his own. An image of Spencer in his hotel room, kneeling naked before Hotch and sucking his dick. Spencer under him, whimpering while Hotch thrust into him, pulling on his hair and kissing his neck.  
Hotch came in the shower, shook to the core by the intensity of his orgasm. He held onto the shower curtain as the water washed away the proof to his secret.

Hotch made breakfast for Jack, packed the bag his son took to his aunt's house and drove him to school.  
On his way to the bureau, Hotch picked up an americano for himself and a latte for Reid. Offering caffeine was key to winning Reid’s affection, that Hotch knew.  
When he arrived at the headquarters, he was actually one of the last agents to arrive. That did not happen a lot. Morgan, Prentiss and Reid were standing around Reid’s desk, obviously deep in conversation. When Hotch entered the room however, they stopped talking and slowly disassembled.  
Off to a fantastic start, Hotch thought.  
“Reid.” he commanded. “Meet me in my office, please.”  
He pretended not to see the looks that were exchanged between his colleagues.

Hotch had just sat down in his office chair, when Reid poked his head through the open door and knocked on the frame.  
“Come in.”, Hotch said and motioned at the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down.”  
The latte was already standing on the desk and Reid eyed it curiously.  
“It’s for you.” Hotch said and allowed himself a small smile.  
“Oh.” Reid said, without looking away from the drink. “Thank you.”  
Their eyes met for a second and Hotch braced himself.

“I wanted to apologize for my behaviour in Edgewood.” Hotch explained. “It was rather patronizing.”  
Reid blushed and smiled a little. “Yes.” he agreed.  
“But you were right to call me unprofessional. My behavior put you into an uncomfortable situation and I overstepped personal boundaries. I’m sorry.”  
Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Overstepped personal boundaries?”  
Reid blushed a little harder. “When I asked you if you were triggered by the case, it made you uncomfortable.”  
“Oh.” Hotch thought about it for a moment. He had indeed felt uncomfortable by Reid’s question, though not for the reason his subordinate suspected.  
Then a different memory came back to Hotch and it clicked. Reid had assumed that the mention of sexual assault might have been a trigger for Hotch and except of denying this as he had in the past, Hotch had simply dismissed it as unrelated to their case. He had unwillingly admitted that it was indeed triggering to him.  
“Don’t worry about it too much.” Hotch said to Reid but mostly to himself. “It’s important for the team that we are as open as possible. In fact-”  
Reid looked at him expectantly. His cheeks were still flushed ever so slightly and his eyes ever so attentive, eager to miss not a trace of information from Hotch. Endearing, it echoed in Hotch’s head.  
“I realize that in Edgewood you did not press me to talk. You offered me an opportunity to express possible distress. I wanted to tell you that it did not go unnoticed and I am sorry to have shut you down the way that I did.”  
Reid watched him attentively. “Sure thing.” he said.  
“Is there anything that you would like to say to me regarding Edgewood?” Hotch asked. “I would not want to leave anything unspoken.”  
Reid finally picked up the latte and began fumbling with the cap.  
“Actually.” He said finally. “There is one thing.”  
Now it was Hotch’s turn to watch Reid in nervous anticipation.  
“What is it, Spencer?”  
When Reid looked up from the cup in his hand, his eyes met Hotch’s. There was something inquiring in his gaze, like he was trying to tell Hotch about what was on his mind without actually having to say it out loud. Hotch quietly asked himself how often Reid did this. He had noticed it in the conference room, at the police station in Edgewood and there it was again. Whatever Reid was trying to say, Hotch could not tell. He would have to verbalize it.  
“Well.” Reid blushed yet again, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I’m sure you figured out how Ethan and I know each other.”  
“You trained for the FBI together.” Hotch stated.  
“Yes, that.” Reid said. “But you figured that our friendship was not strictly platonic.”  
He mumbled it quickly, but Hotch understood. In a way, the team’s encounter with Ethan had been like a subtle coming out for Reid. Another group of people might have not seen it immediately, but to a group of profilers, the two mens’ body language had been fairly obvious.  
“It is not my place to judge your personal relationships.”, Hotch said, then realized how very much judgemental he sounded.  
“I mean,” he made an attempt to clear it up. “If you were afraid that the team, or that I… were prejudiced for one reason or another, I assure you that we are not.”  
Aaron Hotchner was not the man to blush easily, but he did in this moment.  
Reid looked at him again, but this time he was not blushing nor smiling.  
“Are you sure?” Reid asked instead, making Hotch listen up. They eyed each other for a moment.  
“I am sure.” Hotch confirmed. “What makes you question my certainty?”  
“You look at me differently.” Reid said. “I’m not sure when it started, but you do.”  
Hotch swallowed.  
“I think it might be because of me having intimate relationships with men.” Reid continued. “Does it change the way you think of me?”  
Hotch’ head was spinning. Too close to the truth, he thought, steer him away.  
“No.” said Hotch, unsure if he was telling the truth, but he looked Reid directly in the eye. “I did not exactly expect it, but I realize there are things that we don’t know about each other. It is none of my business who you are personally involved with.”  
Reid nodded. He obviously did not believe him.  
“Hotch.” Reid said his name as a non committal goodbye and stood up from his seat.  
“Reid.” He replied in the same tone of voice. Professional, Hotch thought, impersonal.  
Reid shot a last glance at him, before he left Hotch’s office and for a split second there was nothing but pain in his eyes.  
The door shut behind him and Hotch exhaled deeply, tension falling from his shoulders.  
This conversation had been disastrous and there would for sure be consequences.  
Now Reid thought Hotch was homophobic. Reid thought Hotch found him appalling. He led out a humorless laugh in the quiet of his office. The irony was unbearable.  
I want you so much, I can barely look at you, Hotch thought, because if you look at me long enough, you will be able to tell.  
If Reid found out about his infatuation, hell would break loose, Hotch was sure. For years, Reid and him had been a fantastic team. They complimented each other perfectly. How would they be able to work together if Hotch’s feelings compromised their relationship? Especially after he had _just_ come out. It would seem like Hotch was simply sexualizing Reid after finding out about his interests.  
He really was in deep shit.

His emotional turmoil did not get unnoticed with his team, because of course it did not.  
Under different circumstances, Hotch would have been proud of his team for being vigilant. However, under current circumstances, Hotch had to pretend he did not notice when Morgan eyed him in the hallway or when a group of them stopped talking when he walked into a room. His team might have been the best at profiling through subtle clues, but being subtle themselves proved not to be their forte. Or maybe it was intentional, Hotch thought. Challenging.  
If Reid had expressed to his team his concern about Hotch’s possible personal prejudice against him as a queer man, maybe they were being protective of him. Either way it was not helping.

At least, when the next case rolled in and they went to investigate in San Francisco, the team kept it professional. Coincidence brought an old friend of Rossi’s and his, Sam Cooper, into the case and soon, Hotch found himself distracted from the pheromonal stress by simple work-related stress. The unsub had killed a series of young men and was now changing his behavior, kidnapping and killing fathers and their daughters.  
Hotch was well-aware that he was taking a risk by investigating alongside Sam without the knowledge of Strauss. However, his friend had asked him for his support and Hotch wanted to help. Considering the team was already secretly doubting Hotch’s capacity to lead them, Hotch was lucky to have Dave, who convinced them that it was worth the risk.  
If the relationship between Hotch and his co-workers had been distant before, it was worse now. He had thought that to wait it out would be the best solution. Now he was not so sure anymore. Hotch found himself thinking about the option of coming clear with Reid, but it was simply impossible. Hotch was stuck, so he did what he knew best: He worked.  
He didn’t stop, even when Strauss straight up threatened him to leave the case or else.  
Hotch was determined to prove her wrong. He knew what he was capable of and he trusted Sam. He needed to show his team that he was not just a rogue agent, but an experienced leader and good friend. In the end, Hotch succeeded, earning back what felt like a tiny bit of respect from his subordinates.

Nevertheless, when he laid in bed at night, the feelings of inadequacy came back to him and he felt himself longing to hold and be held.  
He thought about Reid and whether he was still seeing Ethan and if not, who was holding him tonight? Was he alone, too?  
Hotch pictured himself wrapping his arm around Spencer, keeping him warm and being kept warm in return. He tried to imagine what his hair smelled like, but he could not, which caused a sting in his heart.

The next case rolled in, because crime never stops and sometimes Hotch felt like he was putting out a forest fire leaf by leaf. They flew to the Mexican border and met Sheriff Ruiz. She had moved there from New York to get away from big city crime, but instead she found cartels and gang violence. Hotch sympathized with her and when the team revealed their profile, he was confident they would be able to help her. Instead, the unsub turned out to be a deputy of her own department and Ruiz ended up dying a horrible death. Hotch was frustrated to say the least. It was Reid who eventually found the clue to the deputy’s whereabouts. They apprehended Boyd at a barn and he opened fire, almost killing Dave and Hotch. Morgan killed Boyd with a machine gun, temporarily deafening Prentiss, but other than that, nobody got hurt.

On the plane home, Hotch felt like crying. The fleeting feeling of their success in San Francisco had completely worn off, like a cheap perfume or weak coffee. What was left was the pervasive stench of loneliness. It was fogging up his brain until all he could see was a gloomy dark tunnel with only the tiniest light at the end. Jack, Hotch repeated in his head. Making pancakes for Jack, reading a story to Jack, taking Jack to the zoo.  
The Beatles, Hotch thought, The Kinks. Spencer.  
The tip of his nose felt antsy, that was how he knew he was about to cry.  
Hotch got up from his seat and retreated to the jet’s bathroom, where he covered his mouth with his hand and sobbed only once. Hotch sat down on the toilet seat and let his head fall back on his shoulder. Fixating his gaze at the milky plastic covering the light on the ceiling, he breathed slowly out and in. In, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four. Out, one, two, three, four. Hotch repeated this cycle until he felt his breath even out. He gave his shoulders a roll and had a look in the mirror.  
Hotch gave his reflection the best Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner stare-down he could muster to remind himself who he was supposed to be. Looking into his own eyes he had a profound realization. If it were anybody else and not himself struggling with this, what would he tell them to do?  
Cut yourself some slack, you’re only human. With the weight you carry on your shoulders, any person’s legs would shake. You are a team leader, a single father, a widower and the only survivor of the Boston Reaper who not only tortured you and tried to kill you, but left you with a hefty case of PTSD. You are only able to carry so much weight. Why are you fighting against yourself? You are not your own enemy. Your desires do not make you a predator. You are looking for love and you might have even found it. Why not take the risk of making it yours? In order to not lose a job that is slowly killing you? It makes no sense.  
Hotch stared at his reflection while his mind raced and he knew that there was no turning back now. He could not continue living like this. The weight was too heavy. Either one of the bags had to go, or somebody would have to help him carry it.  
Again he emerged from a bathroom a changed man.  
Hotch walked slowly back to his seat and this time he allowed the inspecting looks from his team to examine him. The next personal question would surely be a stone against the glass wall that kept him from the world.

They landed and drove back to the bureau to file their respective reports. Hotch felt sensitive like an open wound. His team made their ways to their desks, while Hotch halted on the gallery. Without directly looking at him, Hotch said “Reid, my office in five.”, then swiftly turned around, knowing that Reid was following him.  
Hotch made it to his office first, where he did not sit down in his usual place, but leaned on the front of his desk, anticipating Reid.  
The young doctor popped his head in just a few seconds later.  
“You wanted to see me?”  
So much, Hotch thought. Instead he said “Yes. Come in, please. Close the door.”  
Reid did as told and took a step into the room, but halted, unsure what to do.  
“What is it?” Reid asked confused. “Something with the case?”  
“None of that sort.” Hotch negated. “Something between you and me.”  
“Oh?” Reid sounded even more confused. “Why are we standing up?”  
Hotch smiled, for the first time in days. “I didn’t want the desk to be between us, too hierarchical.” He explained.  
“Okay?” Reid looked nervous at this point. He was still avoiding holding Hotch’s gaze for too long, like he had been since their last private conversation. Hopefully after today Hotch would be able to look into those eyes again.  
“I know you remember our last conversation perfectly.” Hotch began.  
“I do.” Reid confirmed.  
“I also know you didn’t believe me when I told you that you dating Ethan changed the way I think of you.”  
“I didn’t.” Reid confirmed again.  
“And you still don’t”  
“No.”  
Reid’s eyes darted up at Hotch’s for a second.  
“You don’t believe me, because I haven’t been fully honest with you.” Hotch explained. “And you can tell, because you are a brilliant profiler.”  
Reid looked sour for a moment. “Are you trying to win back my favor by complimenting my profiling skills?”  
Hotch laughed a little and it felt amazing. “No.” He said, when Reid looked even more sulky.  
“I’m trying to tell you something, but I’m dancing around it, because it is really embarrassing to me.”  
The unexpected bluntness of Hotch’s explanation had taken Reid by surprise. His mouth fell open and Hotch’s heart jumped.  
“Okay.” Reid said finally. “So what is it?”  
“So.” Hotch started, not entirely sure where he was going. “You were right about me changing the way I look at you, but it happened before Edgewood.” Hotch could feel himself blush, but he kept talking. “It was the same morning, before we went. Something changed my perspective and ultimately, my perception of you.”  
Hotch could see Reid think, most likely revisiting the morning and thinking about every detail that could have triggered this.  
“You won’t find anything in your memory.” Hotch said.  
“Hotch, no offense” Reid said, “But if you want to be honest with me, just tell me. Tell me what has changed.”  
“Before I do” Hotch replied, “Please promise me that whatever I say next stays between us.”  
“Yes, I promise.” Reid said impatiently.  
Hotch braced himself. “The night before Edgewood, I had a dream.” Hotch began, watching Reid’s reaction closely. “I have been repeatedly experiencing nightmares since the attacks by George Foyet. That night was the first night in months where I did not have a nightmare. It was a… really intense dream.”  
Reid looked confused. “About me? What did I do?”  
Hotch made a face, which startled Reid even more.  
“Reid for heaven’s sake.” Hotch sighed. “Anyway, I couldn’t exactly remember much detail, nor that the dream was about you. Until you came into the conference room that morning.  
I saw you and the details from the dream came back to me all at once.”  
Reid did not understand.  
“Have you ever had a really emotional dream that carried into the next day?” Hotch asked.  
Reid did not shake his head nor did he nod. “It’s actually a very common phenomenon.” He explained. “During the dream stage of R.E.M. the parts of your brain responsible for movement are mostly shut down, instead the areas responsible for the processing of memories and emotions are widely active.”  
Hotch waited for him to finish, looking for any sign that Reid understood.  
“So you dreamed about me and it changed the way you looked at me?”  
“Well, not changed.” Hotch said, tormented by Reid’s obliviousness. “More like cleared. I didn’t know I had these feelings, until I felt them in my dream and I haven’t stopped feeling them since.”  
Reid nodded, but Hotch knew that the penny had yet to drop.  
“I thought my infatuation would fade, but to be honest, it’s only getting stronger. I thought it was best to keep to myself in order to not compromise our relationship, but I realize that I unintentionally did exactly that.”  
“Infatuation?” Reid repeated and then it finally dropped. His doe eyes were staring at Hotch and this time, he really did look like a deer in the headlights.  
“Hotch.” Reid said. “What did you dream about?”  
“I dreamed I was in love with you, Spencer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh cliffhanger!  
> That's it for today, peeps. Next chapter to come soon.  
> I'm on a roll.
> 
> If you find any grammar or spelling mistakes, please accept my heartfelt apologies. English is not my first language. Süße Grüße.
> 
> Meanwhile, please enjoy this Heid playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2MpGIXeaFHpfJWeJCATDYC?si=t3W8x9ILRUy4_FtNAiy6iw 
> 
> Kissies


	3. haunt me (x3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut alert baby

“Oh.”  
Reid averted his gaze, visibly dumbfounded by this confession.  
He looked down at his shoes, swaying a little. Maybe they should have sat down after all.  
Hotch had expected to feel a lot worse himself. What he found instead was relief.  
After a week of suppressing the most intense emotions he had potentially ever felt in his life, except for maybe his wedding day or Jack’s birth or the day after Haley’s funeral, when Jack had asked him when his Mommy would come back home.  
Hotch could feel the psychological weight not melt but drop off his shoulders at once. Confessing his feelings to Spencer had required a lot of brevity and awaiting his response was scary. But it was out, the fog was lifting and seeping through the crack in the glass wall that Hotch had created himself. A small smile lit up his face for a moment, before he caught himself again.  
It was almost irrelevant what happened next. Whether Spencer would yell at him or never speak with him again, Hotch would suffer but he would get over it, as he had before.  
“I don’t expect anything from you.” Hotch said, when Spencer remained silent. “I realize this came out of the blue to you. But I figured it was best to come clear so that we can work through our issues and eventually collaborate efficiently again."  
“Our issues?” repeated Reid.  
“Meaning that my reticence has hindered us from working and communicating the way we did before. As profilers you and I are a good team and I would like for us to remain that way, regardless of any conflict my personal struggle may have caused.”  
Reid huffed and looked at him in disbelief.  
“Your personal struggle with your infatuation with me.” Reid summarized. There was something similar to humor in his voice.  
“Yes.” Hotch said, unsure how to interpret Spencer’s reaction. He felt reminded of the many times he had broken uncomfortable news to families of victims or unsubs. It was fascinating to him to decode their reactions. Were they surprised at all, to learn that their loved one was a violent criminal? Were they disgusted?  
Hotch had led countless interrogations, interpreting a suspect’s every move to find out if they were lying or hiding something.  
They had all been strangers. All the information Hotch had had on his counterpart had been fed to him piece by piece by Garcia, a profile and lastly by the interrogated themselves.  
Hotch looked at Spencer before him and he saw nothing.  
At least nothing that would help him understand.  
“I know you interpreted the change in my behavior as an aversion to you.” Hotch continued. “Now you know that the opposite is the case. Regardless, I will not compromise the professional nature of our relationship. I would not want you to feel uncomfortable at your workplace because of me.”  
Spencer listened wordlessly. The more Hotch said, the further Spencer raised his eyebrows. When Hotch hat finally ended, Spencer waited for another moment. When Hotch did not add anything else, he spoke.  
"So do I get to say anything at all?"  
That was sarcasm, Hotch realized.  
"Of course." Hotch gave back.  
“Aaron.”  
Spencer had used his first name. The sound of send shivers down Hotch’s spine.  
“Do I look uncomfortable to you?”  
Hotch looked at him for a moment. Spencer had looked uncomfortable a few seconds ago, but now he seemed more annoyed than anything.  
“No.” said Hotch. “You’re upset.”  
They looked at each other. Hotch would have never been able to put into words how happy he was to finally look into those eyes again, even if Spencer was mad at him.  
“I’m kind of offended.” Spencer admitted.  
“What?”  
Out of all the possible reactions to Hotch’s confession, this was one he had not anticipated in the slightest.  
“You consider having romantic feelings for me a personal struggle and an issue we need to work through together?” Spencer quoted. He was smiling now, although it was drenched in sarcasm.  
Hotch stared at him.  
“You must overcome the dreadful terror of being infatuated with me.” Now he was grinning broadly.  
“Are you making fun of me?” Hotch said seriously.  
“I might be.”  
Then Spencer’s grin turned into a laugh and soon there were tears of joy in his beautiful eyes and Hotch could not help but grin along.  
“I’m glad I could amuse you.” Hotch said, still smiling while Spencer was recovering from his laughing fit.  
“Sorry.” Spencer said and wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s just… I was so worried. Considering how tense things have been between us this week, when you called me into your office I thought I was going to be let go.”  
“I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” Hotch said.  
“I’m just really glad you don’t hate me.” Spencer said.  
“I couldn’t.” Hotch confessed and blushed again. Spencer saw it, but was so considerate not to mention it.  
They looked at each other again and laughed. It was more relaxed than it was awkward.  
“Hotch.” Spencer said. “If it’s not too much, could I ask you a few questions?”  
“Sure, ask me anything.” Hotch said. “I guess we can sit down now.”  
They laughed again and sat down on the sofa by the door. Sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, Hotch felt miles away from Spencer, but he did not want to seem invasive by sitting any closer. Spencer pulled up his legs so he sat criss-crossed.  
“That dream you had” Spencer began, looking down at his right hand which was fumbling with the armrest. “Was it a sex dream?”  
Hotch turned bright red and choked a little. “Yes.” he admitted.  
Spencer nodded.  
“And it made you realize that you were sexually attracted to me?”  
Hotch swallowed. “Yes.”  
“So you didn’t feel attracted to me before?”  
Hotch studied Spencer’s face. The young doctor shot glances at him occasionally, as Hotch had observed him do more and more in the last days.  
“I’m not sure.” Hotch said truthfully.  
“How’s that?” Spencer asked.  
“I have always found you beautiful.” Hotch explained. “But I had never before considered being with you. At least not deliberately.”  
Spencer looked at him again. “But you have considered it now?”  
Hotch frowned, again failing to decipher what Spencer’s eyes were trying to tell him. “I have found myself drawn to the idea, yes. But I know that it’s just a fantasy.”  
“You know?” Spencer asked.  
“Well, I figured the likelihood of my feelings being reciprocated is very low. Considering as well the fact that you are my subordinate and I am your supervisor. Any relationship other than a professional one would be inappropriate.”  
“Hm.”  
Spencer was still looking at Hotch, chewing on his bottom lip as he so often did when he was thinking about something really hard.  
Hotch fought the impulse to throw himself onto Spencer and kiss him breathless.  
“It seems to me that you have forgotten one very important aspect.” Spencer mused.  
“That aspect being?”  
“What I think.” Spencer said finally. “Have you at all considered the possibility that your feelings might be reciprocated?”  
Hotch’s heart dropped. Now that he thought about it, the answer was no. Never had it occurred to him that Spencer might feel attracted to him as well. After all, Hotch was much older, not overly handsome and an authority figure in Spencer’s life. He was in no way a competition to a younger, more attractive partner. Like Ethan. Spencer had also never treated Hotch in a way that would suggest otherwise.  
“I had no reason to do so.” Hotch stated plainly.  
“What makes you think that?” Spencer asked. Hotch was at a loss. What was Spencer trying to say?  
“If there had been any…interest… on your behalf, I’m sure I would have been able to tell.” Hotch said.  
Spencer smiled down at his hands, gently shaking his head.  
“Hotch.” Spencer said softly. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you for years and you’re telling me you never realized?”  
Hotch was glad they had sat down, or he would have surely fallen over at this point.  
“What?”  
“Honestly, I can’t believe you are surprised. It was fairly obvious to everyone else. Emily has been teasing me about it ever since she joined the team.”  
Hotch could not believe what he was hearing. His first idea was that Spencer was joking. Making fun of him again. Hotch scanned Spencer’s face for clues, then his body language. Spencer was nervous, but he was not lying.  
“Why would you have a crush on me?” Hotch asked flatly. He had not meant for it to sound so pathetic.  
Spencer flashed a crooked smile at him. “Classic father complex, I suppose. I like a man in a suit.”  
Their eyes met and they laughed again. Hotch’s head was spinning as he was trying to process what was unfolding before his eyes.  
“I don’t trust many people, Aaron.” Spencer said, sounding serious all of a sudden. “But I trust you. You are a great leader, a strong person, a reliable friend. You have never let me down.”  
“That’s not true.” Hotch argued. “When you were fighting addiction I left you alone.”  
Spencer gave him his non-smile. “You are also my boss.” He added. “I realize there are limits to our relationship. Things that we have to deal with on our own. As much as I wanted to reach out to you back then, or how much I wanted you to reach out to me, I knew it would have hardly been appropriate. You had a wife and a little child, I wanted to spare you the responsibility of dealing with a junkie co-worker.”  
“That’s not who you are.”  
“It’s who I was.”  
There was a moment of silence in which neither of them spoke.  
“If there is one thing I regret in my life, it’s turning my back on you when you needed me.” Hotch said finally.  
“It just goes to show what a beautiful person you are, Aaron.”  
Spencer meant what he was saying, Hotch was sure, but he could not accept it.  
“Spencer…” He wanted to argue, but Spencer interrupted him.  
“I like it when you call me that.”  
Spencer was looking into his eyes again and this time Hotch knew exactly what they were saying. Spencer reached out to tentatively touch Hotch’s hand with his own beautiful long fingers. Hotch’s brain had temporarily lost all function as he could do nothing but give in to Spencer’s touch, taking his hand ever so tenderly, afraid the younger man might recoil.  
But he didn’t. Spencer un-crossed his legs and moved in closer, as his other hand reached out to touch Hotch’s face. Hotch was frozen in place as Spencer’s face hovered only an inch before his.  
“Kiss me, Aaron.” Spencer breathed. Hotch could feel Spencer’s breath on his own face, one hand on his cheek, the other intertwining with Spencer’s. Their lips met and Hotch could have died right then and there. Spencer’s lips were just as soft as he had imagined them to be.  
The first kiss was short and tender.  
Then, Hotch felt Spencer softly guiding his hand to Spencer’s thigh. Spencer kissed him again, while reaching out to touch Hotch’s thigh. Hotch let out a quiet gasp, when Spencer’s fingers trailed along the inner side of his leg. Spencer used this chance to slip his tongue inside Hotch’s mouth. He moved in closer, tightening his grip on Hotch’s leg as he kissed him, the other hand in Hotch’s hair.  
Hotch was not sure what to do with his hands. He wanted to grip Spencer tight and get closer to him than humanly possible, but something was holding him back.  
Spencer moved his hand even further up Hotch’s thigh, his fingers dangerously close to Hotch’s groin.  
“I want you, Aaron.” Spencer breathed heavily against his mouth. “Please don’t hold back. I want you so bad.”  
Hotch tightened his grip on Spencer’s leg, his other hand running through that beautiful long hair, tugging a little. Spencer winced and moved with Hotch’s grip, allowing Hotch to kiss his neck. Spencer moved his hand on Hotch’s leg even further up, until he was touching Hotch’s groin. He tried to suppress a moan, but failed miserably. Hotch’s pants felt uncomfortably tight at this point.  
“You’re hard, Aaron.” Spencer purred into his ear, stroking Hotch through the fabric of his suit pants. Hotch groaned and involuntarily rocked his hips upwards into Spencer’s hand.  
“Fuck, Spencer.” Hotch said under his breath. “What are you doing to me.”  
Spencer kissed him deeply, swallowing Hotch’s moans with each kiss.  
When Hotch felt the familiar twist in his abdomen he gripped Spencer’s wrist.  
“Stop.” was all he managed to say against Spencer’s open mouth  
Spencer’s eyes found his, both their gazes hazy with lust.  
“Why?” Spencer asked quietly.  
“If you keep going, I’m going to come.” Hotch said with rigged breath. “In my office.”  
Spencer grinned and whispered into his ear. “I know something that will make less of a mess.”  
Hotch drank in the sight before him. Spencer’s nose and mouth were flushed, his eyes big and wanting and his hair a mess. The thought of Spencer’s perfect lips around his cock almost sent him into a coma.  
“We can’t, Spencer.” Hotch groaned. “Not here.”  
“How are you so sensible?” Spencer said, buried his face in Hotch’s neck and kissed it.  
Hotch suppressed another moan.  
“What are you doing tonight?”  
“You, I hope.” Spencer whispered into his ear.  
Hotch let out a small laugh. “That can be arranged for.”

When Aaron Hotchner found himself driving in his car, Spencer Reid in the passenger seat gazing at him, he thought that he might have died and went to heaven.  
Whatever did he do to deserve this? Deserve him? He could feel Spencer look at him, not holding back, now that they were finally alone. Nothing kept them from each other anymore. Everything had been said, every burden removed.  
His car shot down the highway. Both of them knew what was waiting at the end of the road.

Hotch pulled the car up to his house and watched Spencer look around the front lawn as they made their way to the front door.  
"The house is a mess." Hotch warned before he opened the front door.  
He did not exaggerate. Everyone and their grandmother could tell that a little child lived in this house, from the moment they stepped inside. Toys and utensils for crafting were littered on the floor, traces of yesterday’s breakfast were spread in the kitchen.  
Hotch took Spencer’s jacket to hang it up the coat rack. As he turned to see if Spencer was bothered by the mess in the house, the opposite seemed to be the case. Spencer started moving fleet-footed through the slalom of toys, gravitating toward the photos and the paintings on the walls.  
“Is that you?”  
Spencer pointed at a photograph by the fireplace.  
“Yes.” Hotch said. “In boarding school.”  
"Your hair is so voluminous." Spencer said with a grin.  
"The eighties." Hotch gave as an explanation. "Although regardless of the decade, none of my hairstyles could ever compare to yours."  
Spencer laughed. He turned around to look at Hotch.  
"Do you think I would have rocked a mullet had I been old enough?"  
Hotch smiled warmly at Spencer as he tried to imagine it.  
"You strike me more as a middle part guy." he said. "But I know Morgan did."  
Spencer looked both horrified and delighted. "No way! How do you know that? I'm sure he would never voluntarily show anybody."  
Hotch put his arms around Spencer's waist and pulled him closer.  
"I review everybody who applies for the BAU. At some point I saw a high school photo of Morgan's. It was an impressive mullet. And a mustache too."  
They both laughed and Spencer moved in closer to Hotch to plant a tender kiss on his mouth.  
He leaned back to say "I guess it traumatized him so much, he had to shave his entire head from that point on."  
Hotch laughed into the next kiss.  
Spencer's hands moved from Hotch's face to his chest as the kisses became more intense. Hotch slipped a leg between Spencer's to create more friction, while he kept kissing him more forcefully.  
A tiny moan slipped from Spencer's lips. Hotch moved to finally kiss that beautiful neck, his left hand wandering to Spencer's ass, giving it an experimental squeeze.  
This time, Spencer's moan was louder.  
"In your dream" he breathed heavily, "What did we do?"  
Hotch looked back at him, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind Spencer's ear. He was so pretty that Hotch was speechless for a moment. He swallowed as Spencer watched him in anticipation, pushing his groin against Hotch's leg.  
"We made out in my office…" he began and planted another kiss on Spencer's neck.  
"That we did." Spencer breathed.  
Hotch smiled.  
"I fucked you into the mattress, upstairs in my bed…"  
Hotch kissed his neck again and Spencer let out a needy whine and rolled up his hips a little.  
"And I had a vision of you naked on the floor, blowing me while I was still fully dressed." Hotch finished.  
Spencer kissed him back, licking at his lips softly, while his hands wandered from Hotch’s chest to the buckle on his belt. When Hotch realized what Spencer wanted to do, he guided him backwards to the couch in the living room. Spencer had taken off his tie in the car, but Hotch was still wearing all of his work clothes. He intended to keep it that way, at least for a little while longer. Spencer however he wanted to see the way he had in his dream, naked and willing.  
They arrived at the couch, where Hotch commanded "Take off your clothes."  
He held Spencer's jaw gently with his right hand. Looking him in the eyes, he wanted to make sure that this was okay.  
Spencer did not hesitate in the slightest but quickly started fumbling with the buttons on his dress shirt, before he eventually pulled it over his head and threw it away.  
Hotch sat down on the couch in front of Spencer, not missing a single thing.  
Spencer blushed a little, when he stood naked from the waist up, feeling Hotch stare at him.  
"You're beautiful." Hotch said truthfully. "Take your pants off."  
Spencer did as told, opening his own belt and pulling down his dress pants, leaving only his underwear.  
Again Hotch drank in the sight before him. Spencer was wearing trunks that hardly left anything to the imagination. Hotch reached out and Spencer took his hand. Hotch had meant to pull Spencer toward him, but he did not need to. Spencer seemed to naturally gravitate to him like a magnet.  
He straddled Hotch’s lap and kissed him again, more needy than before, bringing their crotches together and thrusting. Hotch groaned and swung his arms around Spencer to pull him even tighter. He felt the soft skin of Spencer's back under his fingertips that he was trailing up and down his spine.  
When Spencer hummed happily at the sensation, Hotch let his index finger slide all the way down to the waist band of Spencer's underpants.  
Spencer tightened his grip on Hotch’s neck, when he felt the finger trace along his coccyx.  
Hotch pulled the underwear down slightly so that he could grab Spencer's ass.  
Spencer groaned and moved into the touch, his hands at Hotch’s belt again.  
He quickly opened the belt and the fly of Hotch’s pants, finally giving some release to Hotch's erection that was throbbing at this point.  
Spencer moved out of Hotch's lap and pulled his own underwear off, before kneeling on the carpet before him.  
Spencer put his hands on both of Hotch's knees and gently spread them apart so he could fit between them. He then slit his hands up Hotch's legs to his crotch and finally pulled Hotch's erection from out of his boxers. Hotch hissed at the sensation of cold air on his sensitive skin.  
He watched Spencer wrap his long fingers around his dick, but not taking it in his mouth immediately.  
"Are you okay?" Hotch asked, stroking his hair.  
"Yes, " Spencer said. "It's just… You're big."  
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." Hotch said.  
"I want to." Spencer looked up at him from the floor, those doe eyes hazy with lust.  
The image from his dream appeared quickly before Hotch's eyes and disappeared again. This was happening for real, right here and right now.  
Spencer gave the tip of Hotch's dick and experimental stroke with his thumb.  
Hotch moaned and tried really hard not to thrust into Spencer's hand.  
Then finally Spencer moved in to lick at his shaft.  
Hotch cursed and Spencer smiled before he opened his mouth again, taking the entire tip.  
Hotch pressed his back against the couch in an attempt to not thrust into Spencer's mouth and make him choke, but it was really difficult. Spencer sucked his cheeks in and moved even further down Hotch's dick, before coming back up.  
Hotch was already fairly close, precum dripping from the tip of his dick and the familiar curl in his abdomen. He watched as Spencer bobbed his head down and up again, visibly struggling to deal with the entire length. Spencer's big brown eyes were looking at him and Hotch was done for.  
"Fuck, Spencer." he moaned. "You're doing so good."  
This seemed to have encouraged Spencer, who wrapped one hand around the base of Hotch’s dick while he kept licking and sucking on the tip, his other hand making its way into Hotch’s boxers to massage his balls.  
Instinctively, Hotch grabbed his hair and moaned, this time thrusting into Spencer's mouth, making him gag.  
"Sorry." Hotch moaned, but Spencer continued, his movements becoming more frantic.  
"Spencer… " Hotch moaned again. "I'm going to-"  
He came into Spencer's mouth and Spencer did not stop moving until he had swallowed all of it.  
The sight of Spencer in front of him, lips flushed and eyes watery almost made Hotch hard again.  
Spencer got back up into his lap. Hotch realized that Spencer was hard, but he was unsure what to do. After all, this was the first time he was with a man.  
“What do you want me to do for you?” Hotch said and kissed Spencer’s neck.  
“Touch me, Aaron.” Spencer moaned.  
Hotch tightened his grip around Spencer’s waist and gently pushed him off of his lap and onto his back. Spencer laid before him, sprawled out on the couch and spreading his legs, ready for anything. Hotch looked down on him and smiled at the blissful shamelessness in Spencer’s composure.  
“Stop teasing and get down here.” Spencer said and grabbed Hotch’s tie to pull him into a deep kiss. Hotch maneuvered Spencer’s legs over both of his shoulders, one hand gently caressing Spencer’s cheek, the other trailing down from his navel to the base of his dick.  
Hotch tentatively wrapped his fingers around it and stroked it gently.  
Spencer moaned obscenely and arched his back, wanting more.  
Hotch silently cursed himself for not having any lubricant in the house. Of course he had not expected to find himself in this position at all.  
Precum was leaking from Spencer’s dick, but it was not enough for a handjob.  
That was when Spencer took Hotch’s hand and put both his index and middle finger into his mouth to suck on them. The soft wet warmth of his tongue twirling around his fingers completely shut off Hotch’s brain.  
When Spencer let go of his fingers, Hotch brought them down to Spencer’s ass, gently circling at his entrance. Spencer moaned and Hotch finally took his dick into his mouth, without stopping the motion at Spencer’s hole.  
Hotch tried to remember all the blowjobs he had received in his lifetime and what he had liked about them. He tried to suck Spencer’s entire dick into his mouth, trailing the veins with his tongue. Hotch stopped only quickly to lick his own fingers and gently press one finger into Spencer.  
Spencer was almost yelling at this point he was so loud, whining and whimpering under Hotch. He gripped Hotch’s hair and Hotch slowed down his movements, bobbing his head up and down and playing with Spencer’s asshole.  
“Don’t stop!” Spencer moaned and Hotch kept going until Spencer’s breath became rigged and Hotch knew he was about to come.  
When Spencer came into Hotch’s mouth, he swallowed as much as he could.  
“Kiss me.” Spencer whispered, his voice a little hoarse.  
Hotch pulled himself up to Spencer’s face and kissed him softly.  
“We should probably take a shower.” Hotch said softly. He had sweated quite a bit in his shirt and pants.  
“Together?” Spencer asked happily. “Then I will finally get to see you naked.”  
As they made their way to the upstairs bathroom, Hotch could not help but be a little nervous. Nobody but his doctors or Jack had ever seen his scars.  
Spencer had seen many gruesome things in his young life, Hotch doubted that they would shock him even the slightest. Still he was unsure what reaction to expect.  
Spencer was anything but nervous. He walked around the house naked, like he had done so all his life. Hotch undressed in the bedroom, while Spencer sat on the bed and watched.  
When Hotch had stripped off his tie, dress shirt and undershirt, he could feel Spencer looking at his scars, inspecting them. He knew that Spencer was looking at them with professional interest. Force of habit, Hotch thought, nothing personal.  
For some reason or another however, being this vulnerable was scary to Hotch. He could feel anxiety creeping up on him, even after everything he had just shared with Spencer.  
Hotch resented feeling this helpless. He had never been a very emotional person, never had had to deal with the sheer amounts of dopamine and norepinephrine that were flooding his mind all the time now.  
Hotch felt his palms get sweaty and his nose get tingly. Oh no, Hotch thought, please not now. Everything was going so well.  
Spencer had gotten up from his seat on the bed immediately, and pulled him into a gentle but intense hug.  
Of course he knows what is going on, Hotch thought and let himself be held.  
“Sorry.” Hotch muttered flatly into Spencer’s hair.  
“Don’t be.” Spencer replied, his chest gently vibrating at Hotch’s when he spoke. Spencer pulled back and kissed him softly on the lips.  
“You are so strong all the time, Aaron. Don’t ever apologize for being vulnerable for once.”  
Hotch said nothing but returned the kiss instead, his arms around Spencer’s waist again.  
“Do you still want to shower together?” Spencer asked carefully, watching Hotch’s reaction.  
“Yes.” Hotch said quietly and finished undressing himself. When they were finally both naked, Spencer smiled at him and pulled him toward the bathroom.  
“No shower sex, though.” He said apologetically. “I’m too clumsy.”  
Hotch laughed a little and let himself be pulled into the shower.  
They washed each other gently, Spencer planting kisses all over Hotch’s face and chest and Hotch even had the honor of shampooing Spencer Reid’s hair.  
In the end they both laid naked and comfortable under the blanket in Hotch’s bed, feeling elated and smelling fresh.  
As Hotch was cuddling Spencer he said softly: “Am I dreaming again?”  
Spencer smiled and kissed the palm of his hand. “I’m here, Aaron.”

They were gently drifting into sleep, when Hotch’s phone started ringing. Groaning tiredly, Hotch slipped out from under the blanket and went to pick up his phone from the floor, where he had dropped it together with his pants.  
Spencer opened a single eye to watch him in the half-darkness.  
“Hotchner?” asked Hotch.  
“Aaron, you have a new case.” It was Strauss.  
“Hello Erin.” Hotch rolled his eyes and Spencer grinned.  
“I received a call from the field office in Anchorage, Alaska. Several homicides in a small fishing community. My assistant will send you the details. I realize you just returned from Mexico today, but this is urgent. I expect you to leave for Alaska today.”  
“I guess Jack can stay with Jessica for another couple of days. Thank you, Erin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tissues! tissues for your nosebleeds!
> 
> jk i hope you enjoyed this chapter! Twas really distracting to write.  
> A little heads up: More to come but probably only next week, since I have an exam on Friday. Wish a girl luck.
> 
> Please let me know if I should divide the text into paragraphs more to make it more readable. 
> 
> Keep yourself entertained with my playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2MpGIXeaFHpfJWeJCATDYC
> 
> bye for now! see u next saturday! x


	4. Superstar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! We're going to Alaska babey!
> 
> Alexa play Aeroplane Over the Sea.

When Hotch had to leave someone behind in their bed so leave for a case, in the past this had led to discussions and strains in the relationship. In the end, it had led to a divorce from Haley. That evening however, when he had to crawl out the comfortable warmth of his sheets, Spencer was coming with him. Hotch would still have much rather stayed in bed and finally slept, especially next to Spencer. His limbs felt heavy with sleepiness and his eyes were burning. But at least he did not have to explain himself. Spencer knew just how important each case was.  
Hotch watched, as Spencer swung his legs over the bed frame and gave a yawn and a stretch. “Ooh.” he said, when the cold air hit his naked skin. Spencer grabbed the duvet and wrapped it around himself. When he turned around he noticed that Hotch was watching him.  
“What?” he said sleepily.  
Hotch grinned at him. “Nothing. This is nice.”  
Spencer smiled and walked over to Hotch, to wrap him into the duvet with him and kiss him softly on the mouth.  
“I can’t believe we have a new case already.” Spencer said and wrapped his arms around Hotch, resting his face on Hotch’s shoulder. “Where are we going?”  
“Alaska.”  
Spencer groaned.  
“You don’t have suitable clothes.” Hotch realized suddenly. “We need to stop by your apartment on our way to the bureau.”  
“Or you could just keep me warm with skin on skin contact.” Spencer mumbled sleepily. "Like a macaque."  
“I think that might raise a few eyebrows.” Hotch replied.  
Spencer giggled. “It’s probably a good idea we stop by.” He said. “I also have some other stuff I’d like to pick up.”  
He did not elaborate, but Hotch could feel Spencer smile against his skin.

They got dressed quickly and made their way to the bureau in a hurry.  
Hotch had already taken way longer than he usually would, stopping by Spencer's apartment and also trying to keep his hands off of him.  
When they finally arrived, Spencer got out of the car a little earlier than Hotch, so as to not raise suspicion with his colleagues.  
When Hotch finally entered the conference room, Spencer was talking to Morgan. Hotch greeted the both men casually, as if he had not just sucked one of their dicks.  
Dicks. Spencer’s dick. Hotch tried to shake the flood of images that were appearing before his mind’s eye. Apparently his daydreams about Spencer would not just simply stop, just because he had the possibility to put them into action.  
When there was a short break in Morgan and Spencer’s conversation, Hotch said “I’m getting a coffee. Spencer, Morgan, do you want anything?”  
The other men turned to look at him. Spencer looked wide-eyed and Morgan raised an eyebrow and shot a glance at Spencer, then back at Hotch.  
“Uh, thank you Hotch. I’m good.”  
“Can you get me a cappuccino and some sugar, please?” Spencer said, ignoring Morgan’s assessing glances.  
It was only when Hotch, standing in the kitchen, taking a few sips of his black coffee, when it occurred to him that he had called Spencer by his first name in front of Morgan. He needed to be more careful.  
The last thing Hotch could need right now, was Erin Strauss berating him about a lack of professionalism at his work space. Besides, it was too early on in his blossoming romance with Spencer for him to want to start talking to his coworkers about it. Should things turn out to not work out in the end, God forbid, at least they would not have to explain it to anybody.  
Of course he had not talked to Spencer about this topic yet. Spencer had a very trusting relationship with his colleagues and had told them intimate details about his private life in the past.  
Hotch quickened his steps, as he made his way back to the conference room, two coffees in hand. Hopefully Spencer would keep to himself a little bit longer, he thought. He was not ready to do this just yet.  
When Hotch returned to the conference room, Morgan was frowning. Spencer looked apologetically at Hotch and took his cappuccino. They could not talk now, Hotch knew.  
Eventually they were joined by JJ, Prentiss and Garcia, who had been shopping together.  
Dave came in last, wearing an elegant smoking and an undone bow tie, that was dangling from his neck.  
Morgan wolf whistled at Rossi’s outfit.  
“Working on wife number four?” he joked.  
“I see you people way too much.” said Rossi.  
"Let's get started." said Hotch.

The case had been forwarded to them by the Anchorage field office, for a small fishing community in Franklin, Alaska. There had been three violent homicides in less than a week,  
"For a town with a population of 1476 that's fairly significant." noticed Spencer.  
"It's their first murder investigation on record." said JJ.  
"Any connections?" asked Prentiss.  
"Unfortunately, in a town this small, everyone is connected." replied JJ.  
Looking at the information they had received from Anchorage, the team learned that all victims differed in sex and age, as well as the modus operandi.  
"Different kill methods. It says that the first two victims were both shot but Brenda Bright was stabbed twice with an arrow?" said Morgan.  
Hotch flinched ever so slightly.  
Dave eyed him from the side. "Are we sure it's the same guy?" he asked.  
"All three victims were found in heavily trafficked areas, the unsub wants them found sooner than later." explained Hotch. As the team exchanged ideas as to the meaning of the locations and conditions the victims were found in, Hotch forced himself to relax. He turned his attention to his shoulders and dropped them slightly. It was important he would not let his affliction win over his competence.  
"The local sheriff's out of his depth and Alaska hasn't handled a serial investigation since Robert Hanson in the eighties.” Hotch said finally. “We fly out tonight. Everybody can sleep on the plane. And Garcia, I need you with us. It's your job to keep us connected."  
"Yes, Sir."  
"This town's already on the brink and if this pattern continues we've only got another day until the next murder. Let's finish this fast."

Before they left for the plane, Hotch retired to his office for a moment. He took the stairs up the gallery which divided his office from his subordinates work space. Before he went through the door, he threw a look over his shoulder down to where the team was talking.  
Spencer's eyes had followed him and when Hotch looked back, they met his. Now it was Hotch’s turn to try and non-verbally communicate.  
Hotch closed the office door behind him. He didn’t go to sit behind his desk but waited a moment, looking impatiently at the closed door.  
Finally, the door opened and Spencer popped his head in as if to ask to be let in.  
He was already wearing some of his clothes for the colder climate which awaited them, a purple scarf hanging loosely from his neck.  
Spencer came in and closed the door behind him, and moved toward Hotch, but stopped short of embracing him in a kiss.  
They were standing close to the window from which the team would be able to see them and closing the blinds would be too suspicious.  
And so Hotch, against all instinct, kept on his supervisor face as he spoke.  
"They are probably watching." he said.  
"Most definitely." Spencer nodded.  
"I like your scarf." Hotch said, eyebrows still furrowed.  
Spencer smiled his non-smile while looking down at his shoes.  
"Thanks. I think you wanted to speak to me?"  
"Yes."  
It suddenly occurred to Hotch that the last conversation they had had together in this office had been his confession. How could it have been only a few hours ago? It felt like years that he had shared with Spencer since then.  
"I assume Morgan talked to you about me when I went for coffee."  
"He did." Spencer said.  
"What did he say?" Hotch has not wanted to sound so worried, but frankly he was.  
"He asked me if we finally talked and I told him yes." Spencer explained and Hotch nodded.  
"Then he said that it must have been a good talk for you to call me by my first name." Spencer added and grinned before he composed himself again.  
"It was a slip up. It shouldn't have happened." Hotch said.  
Spencer eyes him attentively. "I didn't mind it. JJ calls me Spence all the time."  
"JJ isn't your supervisor."  
"JJ also hasn't seen me naked."  
Hotch did not reply right away, but studied Spencer's face for a moment. Oh how he wanted to kiss it. Taste his tongue and make him do the little noises from earlier.  
"I just don't want to be perceived as unprofessional."  
"I know, Aaron."  
"I really want to kiss you right now, Spencer." Hotch confessed, without dropping his supervisor face.  
Spencer's mouth fell open slightly, his brown eyes wide with want but neither of them moved.  
"Get back with the others." Hotch ordered. "I can practically feel them staring. Tell them you gave me some information about the geographical landscape of Franklin."  
"Yes, Sir."  
Spencer did as told. Before he opened the office door however, he looked shortly at the sofa, then smirked at Hotch.

On the plane, the team continued their discussion about the known facts in the case and what it might tell about the unsub.  
Hotch had been the last to join them on the plane. Spencer had sat down on the couch, so it felt natural for Hotch to sit down on its armrest. Close to Spencer but not too close.  
It was hard not to reach out to him and touch him, now that Hotch knew that it was okay and even wanted. But not here, Hotch told himself, not today. It was too soon and too much had remained unspoken between him and Spencer. Instead he pulled himself back to reality, trying to focus on the case files before them.  
The varying sexes and races of the victims told the profilers a story about a chaotic unsub.  
"Wearing gloves, making sure there aren't any witnesses that's a no-brainer." Morgan said. "What concerns me is the evolution of the kills. He started with easy prey. The first victims were older, easy to overpower."  
"But he didn't overpower them." Spencer said. "Both victims were shot."  
"Which is my point exactly." said Morgan. "He killed them from a safe distance. But Brenda Bright was younger, more athletic. So why not shoot her too?"  
"Supports a disorganized theory." Hotch agreed.  
"Maybe he didn't get what he wanted from the first two victims." Dave said. "Brenda was an attractive woman. He used an arrow, but he didn't shoot her with it."  
Hotch shifted uncomfortably in his place. He had seen the pictures and he knew what was coming next. He'd rather not hear it. He had been awake for too long and was unsure of how much in control he was of his emotions at this point. The trigger was coming and he could only brace himself for a short moment.  
"He stabbed her." Dave concluded. "I think we all know what that means."  
Hotch's team exchanged awkward looks with each other, but not with him.  
Yes, they all knew what it meant. Which in turn meant that they knew what it had meant to Foyet and in the end, what it had meant for Hotch.  
Nobody dared to break the uncomfortable silence and so Hotch, clenching his fists, took it upon himself to change the topic.  
"When we land in Anchorage, there'll be a float-plane to take us to Franklin. When we get there, Morgan and Prentiss work the crime scene. We need to know exactly how he ambushed his victims. Reid and Rossi, the bodies, find out what you can there.  
JJ and I will work victimology and Garcia, town records. Find us something we can use."  
Everyone gladly accepted the change of topic.  
"Of course, Sir." said Garcia. "Reception in the area is unreliable at best, so I'm giving everybody satellite phones for communication. I've already pre-programmed all your digits into speed dial. Guess who's lucky number seven?" 

On the docks in Anchorage, they were told by the float-plane pilot that the team would have to split up. The plane was so small, that only four of them could board at one time.  
“I’m going with Morgan!” Garcia crooned. Prentiss and JJ followed suit, leaving only Dave, Hotch and Spencer on the docks.  
Dave looked mildly annoyed, being left with Hotch and Spencer.  
Of course he knew there was something going on, even if he could not be absolutely sure what it was.  
Hotch found it increasingly difficult to care.  
The view from the coast in Anchorage was stunning to say the least. Alaska was several hours before Virginia in time, so it was the afternoon when the team arrived.  
It was a clear day and from the small float-plane airport they could see the Chugach Mountains in the distance, behind the striking blue water of the Cook Inlet. It was a rather windy day and the breeze kept blowing Spencer’s hair into his pretty face. Hotch caught himself smiling at Spencer, who squinted at the sun as he tucked his hair behind his ear again, in a pointless effort to keep it there. Hotch smiled and was too sleepy and too happy to stop himself. The shock from earlier had worn off, carried away by the wind.  
Hotch imagined being on vacation with Spencer, in a sailboat on the sea or a sunny beach, building sandcastles with Jack and reading in the shade of a colorful parasol.  
Spencer caught his gaze and smiled along with Hotch, holding back only because, as he knew for certain now, they were not alone.  
When it was finally their turn to go on the float-plane, Hotch felt light as a feather. His heart was a little bird, fluttering and singing in the cage that was his chest.  
They went aboard and Dave sat on the opposite side of the plane, staring out the window, determined not to pay them any attention.  
Hotch was too giddy to be embarrassed. Dave was his closest friend, he figured he would tell him soon enough anyways.  
Hotch allowed himself to sit next to Spencer, to clandestinely take his hand in the minimal space between them. Spencer smelled like Hotch’s body wash. The younger man shot a glance over at Rossi, but the agent was paying them no mind, so Spencer grinned at Hotch. They left the shaky surface of the water and took up into the air, flying over the deep blue sea and towards the mountains. Soon, they were surrounded by blue and it was a surreal experience that made Hotch feel like he was dreaming.  
Spencer squeezed his hand with his own and softly caressed Hotch’s wrist with his thumb.

They landed by the docks of Franklin, eventually joining the team again. Deputy Flack of the Franklin police department welcomed the team and informed them that the docks were the crime scene of the last homicide. Morgan and Prentiss decided to stay with Flack to investigate.  
Hotch and the rest of his team continued to the police station, where they were welcomed by Sheriff Rhodes.  
The sheriff let them know that he was grateful for their arrival, since the tensions in Franklin had been rising and he was beginning to lose control over his people, who had started to take matters into their own hands.  
Vigilance was to be expected, even with their team on location, Hotch thought.  
Since the station was very small, Sheriff Rhodes had made arrangements for the team to work from Carol's Tavern, which was also Franklin’s only hotel and the place where they would spend the night.  
The agents fanned out to go after their respective tasks Hotch had assigned them to.  
Once they were alone, the Sheriff confided in Hotch that he was running out of ideas on how to handle the situation.  
He looked desperate and Hotch could relate to the man's fear of losing his reputation of authority in the town.  
"Have you thought about having a kind of town hall meeting where you get everybody together and talk about the facts of the case?" Hotch suggested.  
"The town is too spread out, I mean, everybody's doing what they can just to get by, you know?" Rhodes explained.  
"Sheriff, I know people move to these remote locations to be left alone, but what happened last night is going to keep happening, and people are going to start taking matters into their own hands."  
Rhodes: "Well I can keep order in my own town but people around here, I mean, this is Alaska man, they do what they want."

In the evening they reassembled in the lounge of Carol's Tavern to share their insights. A crackling fire lit up their faces and warmed their icy skins, as they sat on armchairs and couches, the case files sprawled out on the table before them. It was not only the Alaskan cold that was nagging at them, but their tired exhaustion. It was time for them to round up today's work and go to bed, Hotch thought.  
"He's already experimenting with his victims. He violated Brenda Bright with an arrow." reported Dave.  
"And he's inciting panic." Morgan added. "People who have lived here most of their lives are packing up to leave."  
Hotch was sitting in one of the armchairs, resting his elbows on his knees. Spencer sat in the opposite chair, with his long legs crossed and sipping on a hot chocolate.  
"Well can you blame them?” said JJ. “We have a psychopath whose hunting ground is a town of 1400 people."  
Spencer sat up in his seat a little. "Most of whom grew up learning to kill animals and start fires." he said.  
"Sounds like your basic survival skills." said Sheriff Rhodes.  
"No." Dave disagreed. "They're hunting skills. Think about it, hiding the bodies under trash, the urine. It makes sense…"  
Morgan frowned. "The urine makes sense?"  
Dave nodded. "It's a hunters trick. Keeps the animals away."  
"He tried to preserve Jon Baker’s body so it would be discovered intact." said Hotch.  
His eyes met Spencer’s. The younger agent looked at him, the golden light of the fire flickering in his hazel eyes and on his face. There was so much tenderness in Spencer’s eyes. Suddenly, Spencer felt way too far away from him again, even though there was nothing but a coffee table between them. How long would it take for them to be alone again?  
Spencer blinked and finally looked away, a tiny smile on his lips.  
"Alright so we've got a psychopath with hunting skills who knows the routines of everyone in town. How do we keep everyone safe?" JJ concluded.  
"Sheriff,” Hotch addressed Rhodes. “I suggest you institute a curfew until we have the unsub in custody. Nobody after dark.”  
"I'll have one of my deputies patrolling around the clock."  
"Good. The rest of us should get some sleep.” Hotch said. “Start fresh in the morning."  
Carol Beardsley, the owner of the tavern chimed in. "I've got four of the upstairs rooms available."  
"Uh four?" Spencer repeated, nervously fumbling with his armchair.  
Everybody chuckled.  
"Come on, it's the best we can do.” said Sheriff Rhodes. “Your team is double the size of my department. Good night. "  
"Looks like we'll have to double up." Hotch said, his heart jumping at the thought of what this could mean.  
"I'm not sleeping with Reid." said Morgan, inciting laughs from everybody except Spencer, who looked genuinely offended.  
Garcia called dibs on sharing a room with Morgan, JJ and Prentiss paired up immediately after, leaving Dave with Spencer and Hotch- again.  
There was an excruciatingly awkward moment in which the three agents exchanged assessing looks, anticipating who would say out loud what was in their heads. The rest of the team pretended to not pay any attention. Hotch caught Spencer and Prentiss sharing a quick look and without anything being said, Spencer blushed a little.  
“I’m calling dibs on a room for myself.” Dave said finally. “I’m the oldest.”  
It was silly but a very effective way to solve the tension.  
Hotch noticed Morgan’s and Prentiss exchanging meaningful looks. What did they know?  
Spencer had told Hotch that Prentiss had teased him about his crush on Hotch in the past. It was fairly obvious to everyone else, Spencer had told him.  
Hotch turned to go, smiling to himself behind his back.  
Derek and Emily teased Spencer about sharing a room with Hotch, who they knew Spencer had had a secret crush on. What they didn’t know was that the crush was not so secret anymore.  
They all made their ways to their rooms, Spencer and Hotch’s being between Dave’s and the girls’ room. In the hallway, the team wished each other a good night, Prentiss giving a last mischievous grin at Spencer.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Spencer and Hotch collided, dropping their go-bags to the floor and embracing in a passionate kiss.  
Hotch gripped Spencer tight, holding onto his waist and cupping Spencer’s face with one hand. Spencer moaned into the kiss and pressed his body against Hotch’s, pushing him back against the door.  
Hotch ran his hand through Spencer’s hair and supported his head as he kissed him deeply, his other hand wandering to Spencer’s butt.  
Spencer moaned again quietly but needy. Breathing heavily, they broke their kiss.  
“I want you, Aaron.” Spencer whispered into his ear, sending shivers down Hotch’s spine.  
Hotch tightened his grip around Spencer’s ass, eliciting another louder moan from him.  
They resumed their kiss, hands wandering to the flies of their pants and the buttons on their shirts.  
“So good to finally touch you.” Hotch said in between kisses, letting go of Spencer only to pull off his own shirt. Spencer pushed his hands under Hotch’s undershirt, tracing the soft skin on Hotch’s back. Hotch wallowed in the feeling of being wanted.  
He pulled off his undershirt, baring his torso, not a trace of inhibition in him now.  
Spencer kissed his neck and pushed Hotch’s pants down, exposing his boxers. He traced a hand over the fabric covering Hotch’s dick, smiling against Hotch’s face when he realized it was already hard.  
Spencer brought their foreheads together but did not kiss Hotch, when he closed his hand over the still covered erection in Hotch’s boxers and made a stroking motion.  
Hotch moaned against Spencer’s open mouth as he tried to bring their lips together, painfully aware of the lack of skin on skin contact.  
“Getting bold now are we?” Hotch said in a raspy voice. He opened his eyes to look at Spencer, who was obviously enjoying himself a little too much.  
“Take off your clothes.”  
Spencer obeyed and Hotch too stripped off the remainder of his clothes. They kissed again and Hotch carefully led them to the double bed.  
Naked they fell onto the smooth sheets, their bodies entangled. Spencer laid on his back and Hotch opened his legs to push himself between them, grinding their crotches together.  
At the contact of their erections, both moaned into each other’s mouths.  
Hotch reached down to grab Spencer’s ass cheeks again, slipping a finger into Spencer’s crack, when his hands touched something else. He traced the outlines with his finger tips, feeling some kind of synthetic material.  
Hotch could feel Spencer smile against his mouth.  
“Is that-”  
“A plug.” Spencer said, blushing. “I put it in when we stopped by my apartment.”  
Hotch felt a twist in his abdomen. “You’ve been wearing this the entire day?”  
Spencer nodded and pulled him into another kiss.  
“It’s good for preparation.” he explained.  
“Preparation?”  
“Stretching and moisturizing can significantly reduce pain and possible injury during penetration.”  
“You prepared yourself-”  
Spencer buried his hands in Hotch’s hair and arched up against him, pulling him closer with his legs around Hotchs’.  
“So you can fuck me, Aaron.” he said.  
Hotch groaned and let himself be pulled in closer.  
“Spencer.” he moaned, overwhelmed by everything. Spencer had been wearing a butt plug at work. In order to prepare himself to sleep with him.  
“What else are you hiding?”  
Spencer chuckled. “I guess you’ll have to find out yourself.”  
“Can I see?” Hotch asked.  
Spencer bit his lip and turned under him to get on all fours, arching his back a little, so that Hotch could see.  
The view of a naked Spencer on the bed, arching his back to show Hotch the butt plug that was buried in his ass, was almost sending Hotch over the edge.  
This might have just been the sexiest thing he had ever seen.  
Hotch knelt behind Spencer on the mattress, pushing Spencer’s knees apart with his own and gripping his slender hips.  
He trailed his hands over Spencer’s cheeks and spread them with gentle force, his thumbs stroking the tender skin on the back of his balls.  
Spencer moved into Hotch’s touch and Hotch took another step. He tentatively touched the end of the plug and pushed it in a little. Spencer moaned quietly and pushed back against Hotch.  
“How long is it?” Hotch asked.  
“About four inches with a two inch diameter.”  
Hotch twisted the plug again, then pulled it out slowly. Spencer’s hole stretched a little when the plug came out, eliciting a tiny whimper from Spencer.  
Hotch put the plug aside and brought his index finger up to Spencer’s hole, gently pushing inside.  
Spencer moaned and let his face fall onto the bed sheets, his ass sticking out in the air as he surrendered to whatever Hotch wanted to do.  
“Please touch me, Aaron.” Spencer moaned desperately, his erection neglected.  
Hotch pushed Spencer’s legs apart even further and reached out to grab Spencer’s penis.  
At the same time he used his other hand to grip Spencer’s ass again. He kissed the left cheek gently, causing Spencer to get goosebumps.  
“Aaron.” Spencer moaned, as Hotch stroked his erection a little more confident than last night.  
Hotch had an idea of what he wanted to do, but he had never done it before.  
“Are you feeling good?” Hotch asked Spencer for reassurance that what he was doing was definitely okay.  
“Yes.” Spencer mumbled. “So good.”  
Hotch traced his thumb over Spencer’s hole before he moved in closer and gave it a tentative lick.  
Spencer gasped and grabbed the bed sheets.  
“Still good?” Hotch asked.  
“Yes.” Spencer said, “Yes God, please more.”  
Hotch smiled to himself. He could not remember the last time Dr. Spencer Reid had been unable to form a coherent sentence.  
Hotch licked at Spencer’s hole again, pushing the tip of his tongue into him and wiggling a little, testing the waters.  
Spencer was a whimpering mess before him, trying to muffle his moans by pressing his face into the sheets and by covering his own mouth.  
Hotch just kept going, stroking Spencer’s dick at the same time. Spencer’s movements became more uncontrolled, as he fucked himself back onto Hotch’s tongue and into his hand.  
“Aaron!” he managed to say between moans. “Wait.”  
Hotch stopped immediately.  
“What?” He asked, scared to have done something wrong.  
“I want to cum while you fuck me.” Spencer said, turning to lay on his back again. He looked like the star of an adult film, Hotch thought. Lucky him.  
Spencer pulled him in for a kiss, his hand reaching down to touch Hotch’s erection, giving a few strokes as he licked the inside of Hotch’s lips.  
“My go-bag.” Spencer managed to say.  
Hotch grinned. “What else did you bring?”  
“Condoms and a lubricant.” Spencer said and kissed him again.  
Hotch pushed himself off of the bed to retrieve Spencer’s bag.  
“Toiletry bag.” Spencer said.  
Hotch found the lube and several condoms. He grabbed one and returned to the bed, where he knelt before Spencer again, who was watching him, stroking his own erection lazily.  
Hotch tore open the shiny packaging and slipped the condom over his dick. Then he put a generous amount of lube on top, stroking a couple of times to spread it.  
Spencer was biting his lip, waiting impatiently. Hotch bent down to kiss him again and Spencer positioned himself, wrapping his arms around Hotch’s back.  
With the remaining lube on his fingers, Hotch coated Spencer’s hole, caressing gently and pushing his index finger inside. He let it slide in slowly until it was buried completely in Spencer’s ass.  
Spencer moved again, fucking himself down on Hotch’s finger.  
“Patient now.” Hotch told him and kissed his cheek softly.  
“Put in more, I can take it.” Spencer said, his eyes pleading. Hotch kissed his lip softly as he pulled his finger back out. He put it together with his middle finger and gently slit back in, Spencer moaning beneath him.  
“Maybe I should muzzle you.” Hotch said grinning. “You’re too loud.”  
“Sorry.” Spencer said and it sounded like a lie.  
Hotch planted a kiss on his neck and moved his fingers in and out of Spencer’s hole.  
Spencer tried to suppress his moans, but it would not quite work.  
“Fuck me, Aaron.” he moaned into Hotch’s ear.  
“Are you sure you’re ready?”  
Spencer looked like he was going to lose his mind.  
“Yes I’m ready, just do it please.”  
Hotch positioned his dick at Spencer’s hole and pushed inside.  
Spencer's eyes fell shut and covered his own mouth so as not to wake up the entire town.  
Hotch slit all the way in, until he was as close to Spencer as he could physically be. Spencer was incredibly tight and hot around his erection and he felt so good.  
Their eyes met and Hotch whispered “Okay?”  
Spencer nodded frantically, still covering his own mouth. Hotch pulled his hand away to kiss him softly. He pulled back out a little bit and then pushed back in, covering Spencer’s mouth with his own hand this time, his other hand gripping the back of Spencer’s thigh.  
He fastened his pace gradually, thrusting into Spencer with increasing force, covering his mouth every time he pushed in. As much as Hotch adored the noises coming from Spencer’s beautiful mouth, he was basically screaming at this point and Hotch was not sure if this was the best way to break the news of their relationship to the team.  
Hotch rolled his hips with the next thrust, trying to find the spot that would send Spencer over the edge. He had tried a couple of times, when a specific spot made Spencer howl under Hotch’s hand and dig his nails into Hotch’s back.  
Hotch gave a couple of thrusts more and soon, Spencer was completely submitting himself to Hotch’s direction.  
Spencer clenched around him with every thrust and Hotch found buried his face in Spencer’s neck, overwhelmed by the feeling. It was glorious, fucking Spencer and making him scream like this. He should have worried about their team hearing them, but he couldn’t.  
He kept pounding Spencer into the mattress, feeling himself getting closer.  
Spencer tightened his grip around his back again and Hotch knew that he would cum soon.  
He let go of Spencer’s thigh and touched his erection instead, closing his hands around the shaft, thumb caressing the tip and started to pump.  
Spencer looked up at him, his big brown eyes watery and hazy as Hotch thrust into him.  
He dug his nails into Hotch’s back and closed his eyes, telling Hotch that he was close.  
Hotch kept pumping and thrusting, until Spencer arched his back and came into Hotch’s hand, cum squirting onto his belly and onto Hotch’s chest. His moan was muffled by Hotch’s other hand still on his mouth.  
Hotch kept fucking into him, feeling his own orgasm closing in. Spencer was breathing heavily, clenching up around Hotch, who finally came in Spencer, muffling his own moans by burying his face in Spencer’s neck.  
He almost collapsed on Spencer, but managed to keep himself up on his elbows, his chest and stomach on top of Spencer’s.  
Hotch finally lifted his hand from Spencer’s mouth and planted soft kisses on those luscious lips. He put his hand on Spencer’s waist as he pulled out slowly, Spencer hissing at the sensation.  
They laid naked and sweaty, breathing heavily and feeling nothing but bliss.  
Spencer softly put his hand on Hotch’s cheek and pulled him in for another kiss, opening his mouth and letting Hotch taste his tongue.  
Hotch softly dragged his fingertips up and down Spencer’s back, caressing his soft skin.  
Spencer smiled sleepily as they pulled apart slightly, trailing his thumb across Hotch's lower lip and chin.  
Hotch smiled against the touch. He wanted to say something to Spencer, but he didn’t know what. Anything he could think of sounded like a cheesy cliché, or embarrassingly dramatic.  
It had been less than a day since he knew that Spencer liked him too, even thought of him as desirable. It had been less than a week since Hotch had discovered this part of himself that he had never allowed himself to explore or even admit to himself before. Spencer had given him so much. If Hotch would tell him, would it scare Spencer away? He’d rather not risk it. Not yet.  
They kept gazing at each other for a while, until the cold air in their room made them shiver.  
“Shower?” Spencer suggested.  
Hotch nodded. Good idea, he thought. The condom was still on him, and Spencer’s cum was slowly drying on their skin.  
There was a high chance the unsub would strike again tonight. Hotch cringed at the thought of the Sheriff knocking on their door in a moment like this and them having to resume work sticky and smelling of sex.  
The shower in the bathroom was tiny but they managed to go in together. They washed off the spunk with the body wash that the tavern provided, and ended up smelling like industrial lemon.  
They could hardly keep their hands off each other. It was nice and warm in the shower, so they stayed a little longer than necessary, making out some more.  
“Do you think they heard me?” Spencer spoke softly into Hotch’s ear. He sounded a little worried.  
“I don’t know.” Hotch said, caressing Spencer’s cheek again and pushing his wet hair out of his face. “Possibly.”  
“Are you scared of their reactions?”  
It was a genuine question. Hotch turned off the running water. It was warm enough anyway, steam was hanging in the air.  
“A little.” Hotch admitted. “I’m more scared of the official consequences, though. Of Erin’s reaction.”  
Spencer nodded. “She won’t like it.”  
“Well she’ll have to deal.” Hotch said.  
Spencer smiled and kissed him again, holding him tighter.  
“I thought you were too clumsy?” Hotch said with a grin, when he felt Spencer’s hand around his dick.  
Spencer smiled back. “I’m just having a hard time keeping my hands off of you.” he said and kissed him again, first on the lips, then on his neck, sucking a little. Hotch gave in to the touch and smiled.  
"You can always tell me to stop." Spencer said and kissed his right peck, all the while stroking his growing erection.  
"Now why would I do that?" Hotch returned and let his head fall back to lean on the tiles behind him.  
Spencer kissed his nipple and played with it with his tongue, his hand on Hotch's back to steady them both.  
Hotch made a happy noise and Spencer dropped to his knees to kiss and lick at Hotch's abdomen, making him arch into the feeling.  
Spencer kept stroking and kissing Hotch’s tummy, moving closer to his dick with every kiss.  
Hotch gasped when Spencer’s lips closed around the tip of his dick, his tongue swirling around the head.  
Spencer bobbed his head up and down the length of Hotch’s dick and Hotch grabbed his wet hair a little harder than intended. Spencer groaned around Hotch’s dick, the vibration adding to the pleasure.  
“Oh fuck, Spencer.” he mumbled. Spencer moved his hands to Hotch’s ass, squeezing the cheeks as he sucked.  
Hotch tensed up a little. Being taken the way that he usually took was new to Hotch, unfamiliar but, strangely enough to him, not unwelcome. Spencer understood, because he knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end. He understood Hotch’s body like he understood Hotch’s work and his trauma.  
There was no need for lengthy explanations. Spencer understood. Hotch relaxed again, letting his shoulders drop. He suddenly felt more secure than he had felt in years. There was not nearly as much responsibility he had to carry all by himself. Spencer knew how to take care of him.  
Spencer understands, Spencer can take care of me, Hotch repeated like a mantra in his head as he let Spencer suck him off and squeeze his ass.  
Hotch moaned, feeling his orgasm building up.  
He opened his eyes to look down at Spencer, meeting his gaze.  
Those big brown doe eyes were looking at him again, watching his reaction to Spencer’s movements.  
“Jesus you are so beautiful.” Hotch said and Spencer gave his ass cheeks another squeeze, making Hotch moan again.  
“Spencer, come up here.” Hotch ordered and Spencer stopped sucking, replacing his mouth with his hand around Hotch’s dick.  
“But you’re close, Aaron.”  
“I am.” Hotch said, his voice heavy.  
Spencer got up from the floor, without letting go of Hotch’s dick. Hotch pulled him in for a deep kiss, slipping one hand between his legs and touching Spencer’s half-hard dick.  
“I want to fuck you over the sink, Spencer.” Hotch said when their lips parted.  
Spencer’s eyes were wide and he was breathing heavily as Hotch stroked his erection.  
“Okay.” Spencer said, obviously unable to say anything more.  
“I’ll be right back.” Hotch said and went to get another condom. When he opened the bathroom door, cold air hit his naked body and he shivered, but it was necessary.  
Not only was he going to get the condom, the mirror over the sink in the bathroom would also clear up.  
When Hotch returned to the bathroom, Spencer was already standing by the sink, his body covered in goosebumps, but still stroking his own erection.  
Hotch smirked at the sight.  
“Or I could just watch you do this until you come.” he said.  
“No!” Spencer protested and closed the distance between them in a second, locking their lips again and stroking Hotch’s erection again.  
Hotch moaned into the kiss. “Good point.” he said and Spencer grinned.  
“Turn around.”  
Spencer obeyed yet again, turning around so he was facing the mirror over the sink.  
“Oh.” he said, when he realized why Hotch had chosen the sink.  
“Do you want to watch me or yourself?” he asked, smiling cheekily at Hotch’s reflection.  
“I want to see us together.” Hotch gave back, opening the condom packaging and slipping on the condom as Spencer watched, putting his hands on the sink and bending over.  
Hotch put some lube and then quickly positioned himself behind Spencer, spreading his legs a little further apart. Using his right hand he spread the lube on his covered dick and on Spencer’s exposed hole, experimentally slipping a finger inside.  
Spencer moaned and moved forward over the sink, arching his back even further.  
“Just put it in, it’ll be fine.” Spencer said, sounding almost whiny, which made Hotch grin.  
“Patience, baby.” he said.  
Spencer’s mouth fell open slightly.  
“Did you just call me baby?”  
Hotch looked at Spencer’s reflection in the mirror.  
“Is that bad?”  
“No.” Spencer smiled. “Baby.”  
He turned back around for a moment and kissed Hotch, cupping his face in his hands. Hotch opened his mouth slightly and Spencer pushed his tongue inside. Their erections ground together and they both moaned into the kiss. Spencer pulled back and whispered into Hotch’s ear: “Fuck me, baby.”  
Hotch groaned and flipped Spencer around, grabbed his hips with one hand and positioned his erection at Spencer’s entrance with the other.  
He pushed inside slowly, giving Spencer time to find a comfortable position.  
The young genius held on to the sink and faced Hotch in the mirror, mouth open slightly.  
Hotch went further and Spencer moaned. “Deeper.”  
Hotch slipped his dick all the way into Spencer’s tight heat, groaning because it felt so good and he was so close already. He started moving, rolling his hips and trying to find the right angle.  
“I’m not going to last long.” he warned.  
“Then fuck me harder.” Spencer said, breathing heavily. His cheeks were flushed and he was watching Hotch in the mirror, a strand of hair falling into his face.  
Hotch picked up his pace, thrusting into Spencer and stroking his erection at the same time.  
Spencer pressed his eyes shut and held on to the sink for dear life while Hotch was fucking him.  
“Aaron!” he moaned, his mouth open and head falling back. Hotch grabbed Spencer’s hair and pulled at it while he fucked him. Spencer tried to suppress another moan, certainly trying to stay as quiet as possible.  
Hotch watched Spencer’s face in the mirror, his high cheekbones and defined jaw, making Hotch want to bite right into it. Even his nose was sexy to Hotch.  
Some of the hair that Hotch was not holding on to, fell into Spencer’s face.  
Hotch jerked up his hips and this time he hit the right spot. Spencer failed to suppress yet another moan. His eyes fell open and met Hotch’s gaze in the mirror.  
Spencer arched his back and pushed back against Hotch while he kept watching him.  
His moans became more desperate, his movements more uncontrolled.  
Spencer lifted one hand from the sink and reached back to where Hotch was digging his nails into Spencer’s hips. Hotch took his hand and tightened his grip around Spencer’s penis.  
Spencer whimpered and Hotch kept thrusting into him at the same angle, until Spencer came again, keeping eye contact with Hotch all through his orgasm.  
Hotch groaned and kept fucking until he came shortly after, holding onto Spencer’s waist.  
They were both out of breath and absolutely drowning in the flood of hormones that was running through their veins.  
Hotch gently pulled himself out of Spencer, feeling shaky on his legs.  
Spencer’s legs were a little wobbly too. He held onto Hotch, bringing their foreheads together and kissing him softly on the lips.  
The complete exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours finally seemed to have caught up to them.  
“Should we shower again quickly before bed?” Hotch said quietly as he hugged Spencer with his eyes closed. He could fall asleep standing up at this point.  
“Mmh.” Spencer gave back. “I think I won’t blow you this time.”  
Hotch chuckled. “That’s probably a good idea. Another round might knock us out for good.”  
Hotch threw the second condom in the trash, they showered quickly and Spencer wiped his cum out of the sink.  
“I hope they sanitize the bathrooms properly.” he said when they were finally in their pyjamas.  
Hotch chuckled again. “I’m sure they will once they see the contents of the trashcan.”  
“We’re totally being impertinent guests.” Spencer whispered sleepily as he cuddled up to Hotch’s chest, their legs entangling under the covers.  
“I’m sure we can treat ourselves to some fun in exchange for our service to the town.” Hotch said.  
He could already feel his arms and legs get heavy with sleep. Spencer didn’t reply, his breath slow and even.  
Hotch kissed Spencer’s forehead and finally gave into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Baby, baby, baby, baby ooooh baby!" - Superstar, Sonic Youth.
> 
> They went from last names to first names to pet names.  
> I'll still call him Hotch though, I'm not trying to steal Dr. Spencer Reid's man.
> 
> Thanks for reading, baby! Leave Kudos or a comment if you like, it's greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, honey!  
> Remember to keep hydrated outside and inside, and treat yourself to some self care in these trying times!  
> Final chapter to come in the next 10 days.  
> If you like, talk to me via my criminal minds side tumblr @hankelcuffs.


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